


Side Quest Unlocked: [Cor]

by Rei (RoarOfTheEarth)



Series: Side Quests Unlocked [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate POV for Reverie in Moonlight, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Both Cor and Nyx are a little dense, Cor POV, Cor is secretly a t-shirt fiend, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-01-24 06:34:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 43,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18565894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoarOfTheEarth/pseuds/Rei
Summary: Various parts of Reverie in Moonlight from Cor's POV. Namely his missions and other happenings inbetween.





	1. Chapter 1

# Side Quest Unlocked: [Cor]

# Chapter 1

Monica was a saint, Cor mused as he held the two men by the collars of their shirts. She’d stared at him when he’d walked in with the two Kingsglaive, a third following and bitching at the two he held captive the entire way. He deposited them in chairs in front of her desk and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Tredd Furia,” Cor supplied. “Charged up a punch with electricity, then punched a civilian.”

“On accident!” Tredd shouted, snarling at Cor over his shoulder. “I was aiming for your stupid face.”

“I hope Drautos skins you,” the woman - Crowe Altius - hissed at him. “Cor is on a higher level than _all_ of us you idiot.”

Luche Lazarus stayed remarkably quiet, seething in his chair, but he never spoke up, just glared at the wall behind Monica’s desk like he could set it on fire.

Monica sighed and stared at him as if he’d just handed her three more boxes of paperwork to finish before she could go home. He supposed he had and frowned at the thought. “Don’t worry about doing the paperwork tonight,” he murmured. “Leave them in the Citadel jail until morning.”

“ _What?!_ ” Now both men were staring at him, snarls on their faces.

Cor shrugged. “Why should she suffer for your stupidity? A night in jail won’t kill you.”

“Fine,” Monica said from where she sat. “But I’ll need a witness statement.”

Crowe slid forward then, smiling sweetly. “That’s why I’m here.” She paused long enough to shoot the two an ugly look after they murmured ‘traitor’ under their breath. “I’ll help you bury them under the jail if we need to.”

“I appreciate that, but it won’t be necessary. Marshal,” Monica nodded her head as a way of bidding him farewell, and Cor left her with the three Kingsglaive. He wasn’t worried about her, Monica could take care of all three of them if they decided to gang up on her, but he doubted the Crowe woman was interested in such.

Outside the Citadel, he breathed in the cool morning air and stared at the sky. Now that he could slow down, everything was starting to slowly process instead of flashing to him in quick snippets.

He’d grabbed the bartender after Tredd had punched him, the shock from the lightning magic had jarred him. He very distinctly remembered staring into very, _very_ blue eyes after that punch and wondered if the electricity had done something to the man’s eyes to make them glow like that. Then realization had hit him when he’d looked up and seen just how red Tredd’s hair was against the darkness in the bar.

Color meant one thing, and Tredd Furia had just punched him with lightning crackling off his fist.

For the first time in a very long time, Cor had lost his temper. Subduing the two had been a quick affair, and had struggled with the idea of leaving Crowe and the other man, Pelna, in charge of them while he helped the bar owner take the man upstairs.

Honestly Cor could have carried himself. He’d wanted to, he’d wanted to latch onto his wrist and stare at everything around him because it was bright, and new, and colorful for the first time since he’d been a teenager following Regis around on his damnable ‘Road Trip’ from hell. He’d stared down at the bartender, wondering if he should say anything to the man who was obviously his friend and employer. The slightly husky blond kept looking from his friend to Crowe, and it had dawned on Cor rather quickly that the two were newly matched and the man was having difficulty figuring out just what the hell he was doing.

“We need to take Tredd and Luche in, Marshal,” Crowe had said from the doorway. She’d glanced at the blond and smiled. “I’ll come back, I promise.”

Should he make such a promise? He glanced at the man, passed out on the bed with a angry red area flaring across his temple. He was likely going to get tangled up in the mess this would create with the Kingsglaive, especially since the punch was meant for him.

He’d sighed and asked her to check on him later for him if he couldn’t stop back by. Crowe had thought it odd, but agreed to do so.

Now that he thought back on it, he really should go back. If the bartender was his ‘match’, he needed to let the other man know. He’d likely passed out before Cor had touched him and wouldn’t even be aware of it. Perhaps he should wait until later then? Give him time to rest and hopefully not suffer any kind of ill effects from the punch? He could check on him later…

Cor knew how to handle rowdy Crownsguard. He even knew how to handle disrespectful Kingsglaive. He _didn’t_ know how to handle the possibility he’d actually managed to find his soulmate in the middle of city, in a bar, in the beginnings of a bar fight _where his match had gotten punched_. He was a logical creature. He needed to think these things over.

He walked home not even remotely sure if he was making the right choice and feeling like a great fool for being worried about it.

* * *

“Wait,” Monica held up her hand, stopping Cor as he spoke. He paused in his retelling of what had happened and stared at her expectantly. “You just said Tredd had red hair.”

Cor stared at her blankly for a moment. “Because he does.”

“Marshal-”

His phone snarled to life in his pocket, blaring angry bit-tune noises until he pulled it free and answered. He stared up at the ceiling as the voice spoke to him over the earpiece, closed his eyes and wondered how much trouble he’d get in for killing someone.

Namely the King.

“You did what?” he asked tonelessly, willing himself to be calm. “And explain to me how that landed you in Longwythe?” A moment later, he snapped his phone shut and looked at Monica. “I’m going to kill him and Clarus.”

“That’s treason, sir.”

He stood, and walked out of her office because he was a good soldier and came when he was called.

* * *

“You walked here,” Regis stated as he stared at Cor as if he was some type of Road God. “You walked all the way to Longwythe because you couldn’t bring your car?”

“I hitchhiked here,” Cor stated as he looked up from under the hood of the Regalia, “because you’re too much of a _child_ to call Cid and ask for a tow. We’re walking back, or at least until Clarus gets my voicemail and meets us… wherever we are at that point.”

“You could have just driven.”

Cor was a patient man. He hadn’t been when he was younger, but he’d grown to learn to be patient. His patients had its limit, however; and the King’s games were on the top of his list of shit he didn’t want to deal with. “Regis,” he said probably a fair bit sharper than he’d meant to. “A King doesn’t usually just decide to _ditch his council meeting_ to go joy riding.”

“It’s not my fault the Regalia broke down,” Regis huffed, looking away. “It was getting stuffy in there, and I wanted some air.”

He sounded like he was twenty again, Cor thought as he stared at his King. Twenty and driving out towards a battle field with no idea what the hell he was doing. “It didn’t break down,” Cor grumbled as he slammed the hood. “You ran out of gas.”

Regis looked as if someone had just slapped him. “Ah, shit I forgot it needed that.”

* * *

Clarus picked Regis up just outside of Insomnia’s bridge. The sun was already dipping towards the sea at that point, and Cor happily declined a ride back with the King and his Shield. He’d listened to Regis enough as they’d walked back. Cor loved Regis, he did. He would do anything for the man. But even on his best days he could only handle so much of the King, and walking with him through Leide had been enough Regis for a _week_.

He was walking somewhat mindlessly at this point, following along the walkway that was separated from the road and the edge of the bridge by concrete dividers. He wasn’t paying all that much attention until a shape caught his eye further up the bridge. As he got closer, he realized it was a person, their back pressed against the bridge wall, head down. Alarms went off somewhere in the back of his head, a warning that something was wrong. He paused before he approached, trying to figure out what to say. A long time ago he’d been in a similar position, wondering if he should just end it and get it over with. Barely fifteen and wondering if he should bury the muzzle of a pistol into his mouth and pull the trigger, Regis’ father King Mors had swooped in and given him a choice. He’d called it something else, but Cor had seen it for what it was. A reason to live.

“Hey, you ok?” he asked finally, watching the person’s shoulders jerk slightly, startled. The person - a man - looked up almost sheepishly at him, his forced laughter falling flat and dying painfully on the ground between them. Cor ignored the awkward croak, staring at his face instead. “You’re that bartender,” he murmured then frowned. “What the hell are you doing out here?” A thought crossed his mind, and he held out his hand, offering it to the other man.

The bartender floundered, then laughed the fakest and most pathetic thing Cor had heard from a person in a long time. “Just, taking a walk. Ya know?” His hand was ignored, and Cor dropped it a bit sullenly. “Didn’t hear you drive up.”

“Didn’t drive.”

The other man stopped and turned to stare at him, wide-eyed. “You… walked?”

Cor shrugged because it was the truth. “I was heading back to the city.” He watched in amusement as the bartender turned to look back down the street in the direction of Leide, then the laughter started in earnest, a low sound that came from somewhere in the back of the other man’s throat.

“You’re crazy,” he said as he looked back at Cor. The amusement in his eyes was better suited there than the haunted look he’d had a few moments ago. “You actually walked all the way here? How long have you been gone?”

Cor furrowed his brow thoughtfully then shrugged. “After I locked Tredd and Lazarus up at the Citadel, I was sent out.” He skipped the part where he’d gone home and sat around in his house worrying about shit he had absolutely no control over.

“Wait, wait. Stop,” the bartender interrupted. “Have you slept? Are you insane? You went out at _night_?”

Cor shrugged. “Well, early morning.”

“I… I don’t even know what to say to that one. Welcome back?”

Those two words did something to Cor’s insides that troubled him. It wasn’t _unpleasant_ , but it felt strange and Cor wasn’t entirely sure he was okay with it. Probably because no one, not even Regis ever said ‘welcome back’ when he arrived to give a report on a mission. “Er. Thank you?” It was all he knew to say. He didn’t understand the strangeness going on inside himself, and completely missed the look the other man was giving him.

“Excuse me.”

Cor looked up in time to see him leaning over the bridge railing. There was consideration there that sent a little shock down Cor’s spine and had him moving before he could think of a different action to take. He curled his fingers around the man’s upper arm, digging his fingers in the muscle there and breathed in hard.

If there had been any doubt before then about the possibility of his man being his match, it was banished as color flooded his senses that nearly sent him spiraling out of control. He stared out across the ocean as the sun set, watching something he’d thought he’d lost after he’d turned fifteen. He’d been so angry back then. All snarls and frustration. He’d done anything Mors had asked, shoved a sword into anyone’s gut who needed it, no questions ever spoken.

“Um,” the bartender murmured from beside him, his voice small. “That was, um… that was, _very pretty_ , but um…” Cor was aware he was being spoken to, part of his brain was still listening, but the other part was being dazzled at the moment. “Um, Cor, I kinda need my hand to _not_ be amputated?”

Cor blinked and focused his gaze to where his hand had slid down the man’s arm to his wrist, his knuckles white from the vice-like hold. He loosened them immediately, but didn’t let go of the other man’s arm. “Sorry,” he murmured and then turned his attention to his face. His eyes were blue, that same startling shade that reminded him of the ocean under their feet. He could get lost in them, he realized. A very dangerous thing. “Your eyes are blue,” he stated lamely, feeling as if he were stating an obvious fact. “Very… blue.”

The smile was small, but he saw it. “So are yours.”

It was like puzzle pieces, Cor thought, snapping back together. Seperated, they didn’t make up a whole picture, but together… together they created an amazing picture. Cor stared, and stared, and stared. Because his puzzle piece was right there in front of him in the shape of a blue-eyed Galahadian bartender and something like happiness was tingingling in his gut.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's you another Cor side story while I get Chapter 8 finished. xD

# Side Quest Unlocked: [Cor]

# Chapter 2

Cor was sitting at his desk staring at the report that had been filed for the retrieval of the Regalia. It had some very proper, very colorful language explaining just how the King had thought it agreeable to drive the car out of the city _without his guard_ , then run out of gas on the side of the road. If nothing else, Cor was allowed the sick enjoyment of knowing Clarus had chewed Regis a new asshole while in that car and he’d not had to suffer through it.

The sound of his door opening pulled attention away, and he stared curiously as Monica closed the door carefully then walked over to stand before him.

“I want to meet them,” she stated bluntly.

Cor blinked. “Meet who?”

Her eyebrows furrowed together, a look of exasperation crossing her face that Cor took immediate pleasure in. It was usually difficult to ruffle Monica’s feathers, and watching her go on a frustrated tirade was probably the highlight of his life thus far. Well, scratch that, finding his match was the highlight. Monica cussing Titus out in front of his Kingsglaive was a close second.

“Your match you-” she stopped herself, eyes narrowed. “ _Sir._ ”

Cor dipped his gaze back towards the paperwork, lifting a sheet to hide the small quirk in the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know his name.”

Monica actually sputtered. “ _What?_ ” It was a glorious sight, Cor decided, the look on her face when he confessed he hadn’t asked the bartender’s name. All he knew was he worked and apparently lived there. Though he thought he’d heard the Glaive woman - Crowe - call the owner of the place ‘Libertus’.

“I was a bit busy,” he mused when she’d just kept staring at him. “And I figured he’d passed out before I even managed to touch him.”

“But you met him on the bridge coming back into town,” she pointed out, frowning at him. “Why didn’t you ask then?”

Cor considered her for a moment, the way she had her hands on her hips told him she was done with his shit. It also told him exactly what she thought of him in that moment. “It seemed wrong?” he questioned, frowning. “I’m not sure. It didn’t really come up, we were kinda busy staring at the sunset and then each other.”

Monica made a weird sound in the back of her throat and snorted. “Six save me,” she murmured, covering her face. “My boss is an idiot.” She sighed, bone weary and ready to punch something, or more specifically, someone. “What bar is it, Marshal.”

Uh-oh, she’d gone to rank now. He eyed her warily. “The Galahdian one.” When she’d stared at him, he realized she needed more information, especially since Galahdians liked to drink and there were several bars scattered around where most of them had settled in the city. “Uh, the one the Crownsguard have been talking about, they split the week with the Kingsglaive.”

Monica’s eyes lit up. “I know the place. Give me a moment.” And she was gone.

If Cor had known it would be that easy he would of just asked her to begin with.

* * *

When Monica returned, Cor was leaning back in his chair with his phone pressed against his ear, rubbing the bridge of his nose. A sure sign of a headache. “Bad news?” she asked as he hung up the phone and released a long-suffering sigh.

“Imperials,” Cor grumbled. “They’ve been acting sketchy recently and it has Regis on edge. Apparently something is going on in Tenebrae as well, but he wants me to handle the sightings in Duscae.”

“That’s close,” Monica murmured with a frown. “Too close. Why are they within Lucis?”

Cor shrugged. “Part of the ceasefire agreement was that Regis had access to Tenebrae and the seat of the Oracle. I think part of the agreement was that the Imperials could mine for ores in Cleigne. They aren’t supposed to be in Duscae though, so I’m heading out to figure out what the little shits are up to.” He stood and paused thoughtfully, glancing at Monica. “Did you find out anything?”

“Nyx Ulric, he’s twenty-eight years old, moved here with his friend Libertus Ostium nearly ten years ago. The bar was opened maybe four years ago? Seems it is their labor of love. The Crownsguard and the Kingsglaive have an agreement to share it though the week, Ostium apparently makes his own liquor, and Ulric is the cook.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “The place is well liked amongst both groups, they’ve grown rather protective of it.”

He snorted. “Could have fooled me the way Tredd clocked him in the head.”

“To be fair, it was aimed at you,” Monica reminded him.

“He wasn’t even sorry about it though,” he grumbled and huffed.

“I think that has something to do with them all being Galahdian,” Monica guessed, tilting her head. “Ostium and Ulric never conformed, they kept their ways about them despite Insomnia not really liking the culture too much. That’s why most of them stick to the Galahdian Quarter. From what I understand, Furia and Lazarus were part of the group that tried to fit in with the rest of Insomnia.”

“It’s scary,” Cor admitted. “How good you are at gathering information.”

Monica smiled sweetly. “It’s my job, Marshal.”

* * *

Cor set his binoculars down and glanced at the sky. It was getting dark. It’d taken him two weeks to make the trip to Duscae by car, which he’d then had to ditch and follow the movements of the Imperials on foot, which was far more annoying than anything. Then the assholes milled about in their little base for a full week before packing up and moving out. Cor hadn’t found any real reason for them to be in Duscae, but they’d been poking around the Secullam Pass, and Cor had the fleeting suspicion that they were looking for one of the royal tombs.

But why, was the real question.

Though he’d taken a rather sick pleasure in his surveillance of the area when the coeurl popped up.

Sighing, he pulled back to the haven he was camped out on near the treeline, out of sight. He would report in and then get an hour or two of sleep before the Imperials moved out. He was going to follow them to see if they had a permanent base set anywhere.

He was cursing his luck as he made it back up onto the flat rock with its glowing runes. The first fat drops of rain had hit him in the middle of his scalp on his trek back which meant he’d be sleeping in his tent or catching a cold. The cold was almost worth it, if he thought about having to downpack the tent later, but he wanted to be dry, so he dug the damn thing out of the armiger. It was a small tent, just big enough for him to wiggle inside of after popping it out. Peering out of the flap just as the downpour started in earnest, Cor pulled his phone out and pulled up his text messages. He wished he’d had the foresight to go to the bar before he’d left and ask for Ulric’s number.

Just… Hearing him talk mindlessly about whatever happened at the bar the night before would be a welcome distraction. He’d rectify that when he got back.

Lightning streaked overhead and Cor leaned out of the tent far enough to glare at the sky as a loud boom of thunder rolled above him. Well, he glared at it until he realized that wasn’t the thunder still rumbling through the air just in time for the dropship to enter his field of view.

Pulling his sword from the void, Cor readied himself for the Mgitek Troopers that were about to drop, except that was definitely _not_ an MT coming out of the ship’s backside.

The MA-X Patria landed with an earth shattering thud that knocked Cor a little off balance. The thing leveled its rocket launcher at him and Cor had to roll and high-tail it to get out of blasting range. The damn thing lit his camping spot up like festival fireworks.

So much for staying dry.

Cor made for the pass, knowing he could outrun the Patria. He just needed to find a spot where he could get undercover and attack it from behind. Facing it head on was an option, but the battle with it would alert the nearby encampment and he doubted he could take on the entire makeshift base, not without some blood loss anyway. The Patria followed him, on a mission to personally fuck up his day, and Cor b-lined for a grouping of caves he knew about that would be fairly hidden from view.

He wedged himself into the first cave he came across, ignoring the sharp rocks digging into his back as he forced his body into the crevasse. The Patria was stomping around near his hiding spot, unable to see the hidden cave entrance due to the heavy foliage so Cor chanced a peek around the rocks when he heard it move away. His fingers tightened around his katana as he eyed the weak point in the joint of the machine’s leg. He just needed to time his strike-

The sound of jets made him pause. He could make out the faint sounds of metal sliding over metal and narrowed his eyes as a rather imposing suit of liquid metal armor came into view. The lights from the Patria fell down onto the armor, glinting off the metal and causing bits of it to flare a purplish-pink hue.

“General,” the static filled voice called from the MA-X. “He disappeared into the surrounding area.

General Glauca. Supreme Commander of the Niflheim Military. Cor cursed under his breath and pulled out his phone.

He tapped on the screen, bringing up his text messages with Monica. **[Ran into trouble.]** he tapped out quickly. **[Going Dark.]**

Seconds later he got a response.

**[Be safe.]**

He ripped the battery out of the back of the phone, dropping them both on the cave floor, and stepped on them for good measure. Cor didn’t trust the thing not to give off some kind of electrical signal that would alert the Niffs. Lucis had magic, that was their ‘norm’ no matter how limited it might be. Niffs had their tech, and by all accounts it was superior to anything Lucis was putting out.

“Set up the jammer,” Glauca was saying, probably speaking over a comm back to the Niff base. “We’re sweeping the pass for a spy.” The General turned, the eyes of his armor scanning the nearby brush but not in the direction of Cor’s hiding spot. “If they are still here, we’ll find them by morning. If not, we move on.”

“Yes sir.”

Jets fired off under Glauca’s boots as several more MA-X’s came into view followed by MTs. The General left them there, probably heading back to base. Cor cursed softly and pushed a little further back into the cavern, his damp cloths catching on the rocks.

He was in for a long night.

There was no sleeping in a cave where you had to stand upright, pressed between two solid pieces of wall covered in rather sharp rocks. Rain water had also started leaking down the wall, dribbling down past Cor’s collar. He hated everything about it, including the loud smashing and random launches of rockets and grenades the MA’s were doing outside. It grew quieter when the sun started to rise, Cor able to see hints of pink on the horizon through the foliage covering the mouth of the cave.

They called off the search after another hour, heading back to their base to continue moving.

Cor wanted to sleep, but banished the fog from his brain. If Glauca was hunting for the Royal Arms, he might also start looking for the ones closer to the border. The Wanderer was the closest. The Rogue was inside Myrlwood near the Vesperpool, that one he doubted they would bother with. Myrlwood was its own hell. The only other he could think the General might try to go after was possibly The Fierce, which was hidden amongst The Rock of Ravatogh.

Closing his eyes, Cor tried to decide his best course of action. There was only one he was going to take because it meant protecting what rightfully belonged to the Crown, and it was his job.

* * *

He spent too much time following them. He’d had to stay at a safe distance the entire time because the fuckers were still on high alert. He also didn’t want to tangle with General Glauca, he just wanted to know where their base was, and if they’d found the Royal Tomb.

By the time they settled back into their base as the foot of Ravatogh, he’d been following them for a month. He needed to get back. Luckily it seemed they were nowhere close to the hidden tomb and while the Imperials wouldn’t be able to do much of anything with the rusted weapon that laid within the grave, they _could_ destroy the location. There were only thirteen Royal Arms left that were known of. Others had been lost to time or destroyed. There could be more, but no one had stumbled across them yet, so one less location meant one less weapon in the armiger for future kings, such as young Noctis who was quickly approaching the age of his pilgrimage to go out and collect the relics.

Now it was his job to return to Insomnia and release his findings to Regis. The King could send his Glaives to deal with the MT base set up at the base of Ravatogh, afterall the agreement was for mining ore, there was no need for the Imperial Military to get involved.

Sliding against the rough, ash strown ground and wishing a shower existed within the armiger, Cor made his way towards the highway. The thought of hitchhiking his way back to Leide was a daunting one, but at least he was on this way back.

It was a few days later that he came to the realization that hitchhiking was not an option as he crossed the border into Duscae. No one stopped, and more than once Cor found himself hiding when a dropship sped through the air overhead. The Imperials were doing a lot of moving through Lucian airspace and the King needed to know. Something was going on. Something big.

Cor just wouldn’t realize _how_ big until he got home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, here have another because I wrote it fast and just..  
> -shoves it at- take it.
> 
> Realistic sized maps, because by the time you walk from Hammerhead to the checkpoint at Insomnia's bridge gates it's been like a freaking _day_. I probably got sizes wrong. We'll just assume Cor is directionally challenged and wandered off for a bit here and there.

# Side Quest Unlocked: [Cor]

# Chapter 3

He’d been gone a total of four months. It had taken him two to trek across Duscae then Leide. He’d made it back to his original camping spot where he’d left his car behind only to find it gone. More than likely Monica had sent someone out to pick it up, or there was also the option of it being stolen. No matter which had happened, it still meant the same thing.

He was walking.

“I’m going to park my ass in a bed and stay there for a year,” Cor grumbled to himself as he started down the dirt road warily. Preferably, he decided with a bit of a crooked smile, in a bed at a particular bar because he really wouldn’t mind just holding onto whatever part of Nyx Ulric the other man would let him touch so the world would right itself. Maybe even after an hour or two his brain would remember he’d somehow managed to stumble across his match by complete accident.

He had to make his report first though. Something he was dreading because he also knew the King liked to play twenty-questions and he really just wanted to shower, curl up against Nyx and pass the fuck out.

It didn’t take nearly as long as he’d thought it would. It took about ten minutes he supposed, after walking past the checkpoint gates leading on to the bridge. He’d barely given the guard a nod, hadn’t even really acknowledged him really. The man must have made a call to the Citadel because the black car speeding up on him was definitely one of the Kings. 

It stopped a short distance away and Clarus stepped out. “Get in,” he told him, his tone telling Cor he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Something had definitely gone down while he was gone.

He wasn’t getting that shower yet.

* * *

Regis told him shit-all. He’d sat there in his study with Clarus standing behind him, listening as Cor detailed what and who he’d seen. They had discussed the Supreme Commander, and then Regis had called Titus to get the Glaives ready to head out. Then the questions had started, and Cor had sat there patiently, answering each one as best he could while trying not to just curl up in the chair and pass out while Regis spoke. The King didn’t stop with the barrage until Clarus finally cleared his throat, frowning down at Regis.

“Alright, I get it,” Regis grumbled, turning his gaze back on Cor who was honestly trying his best to focus. “Just one more thing, Cor.” 

Cor closed his eyes and sighed, willing himself to be patient. “Yes?”

“I want to meet him.”

His eyes snapped open, his vision tunneled a bit, fuzzy around the edges but he stared directly into the stern blue eyes of not Regis… but the _King_. He stared and then very pointedly looked off to the side and yawned. “Dunno what you’re talking about, your majesty.”

“ _Gods dammit, Cor._ ”

“I don’t understand?” Clarus piped in, looking curious. “Did something happen?”

“This _little shit_ found his soulmate and I want to meet him,” Regis declared, giving Cor the glare he’d given him years ago when he’d been fifteen and a dickhead. “Don’t you lie to me, Cor. I have _resources_.”

“Monica is not your resource,” Cor replied tonelessly, sitting back in the chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “Stop spying on me.”

“You found your match?” Why the fuck did Clarus sound so excited?

Regis turned to Amicitia for support. “Yes, he did! We have to meet him.”

“Yes, you should bring him by.”

Cor stared at the two men silently as they rambled, talking about having tea. They were so excited about it, yet the prospect of subjecting Nyx to these two made something deep in his gut turn to ice. “No,” Cor stated, cutting off all the plans the two men were making very much without his permission. “I’d rather face off against Glauca.”

Regis made a face at him. “ _No_?”

Clarus reached over, patting the King on the shoulder. “It’s alright Regis, he’s still going through the ‘protective’ stages of their relationship obviously. He _has_ been gone for four months and only just met his other half.”

The King seemed to process that slowly, then his eyes lit up as he stared at Cor. “You should have said something, you idiot.”

Cor groaned and laid his head back against the back of the chair, grinding the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I’m not making you _any_ promises,” he growled, then pulled his hands back, looking tiredly at the two. “May I go home now?”

“Of course,” Clarus said, cutting Regis off before he could say another word and walked to the door. Cor moved out of the study as fast as he could without breaking into a dead run. He did pause long enough to angle his body so the King could see him holding out his middle finger as Clarus closed the door. It was worth seeing his face turn red just as the door clicked closed.

He hauled ass after that, taking the stairs instead of the elevator and nearly tripping twice when his body lagged for a minute, his brain misfiring its commands. He needed sleep, even if it was only an hour or two. He just… he _needed_ Nyx. The thought had him stopping outside the Citadel and he stared straight ahead as his mind ran over that thought again.

Cor was a creature of habit. He did his duty, he filed his paperwork, he reported to his king and then he went home. There was a new step in that process now, however. And that new step was Nyx Ulric. His feet turned towards the Galahdian Quarter before he could think too much about it. 

It wasn’t much different than the rest of the city, it was a poorer part of town that immigrants from Galahd had claimed as their own. Cor had come to realize in his last few visits there that the place was rather unique in its own right. A large number of the Galahdians that had been there for some time kept the old traditions. They had their own shops, offered their own wares. Where as the newer faces tended to toss aside the tradition in favor of what Insomnia had to offer. He’d seen young men crop their hair short, abandon their braids and the tradition behind their culture. The older generations seemed to look down on that.

Nyx was in a unique in-between area. He held onto tradition, but in leaving Galahd he’d also broken it. He didn’t stick to the normal ‘craft’ most Galahdians did. Libertus brewed his own liquor, some people wove their own clothing, made pots or other decorations. Nyx cooked for a living, and not everything he cooked was traditional. It was like he skirted the line, walked both sides of the road.

Cor paused as he turned down the street the bar was located on. Off to the side, near one of the older complexes a couple argued in a completely different language, shouting at each other. That was new. The woman was crying and the man looked furious but it didn’t seem they were upset with each other. More just… upset in general. They were packing a car quickly, stuffing clothing and bags into the trunk. He turned and kept walking. Along the road, the shops were closed. Lights were turned off, doors were locked. It was like the market was dead. Usually alive with shouts of sales or someone hawking their wares.

It was unsettling.

A knot twisted itself up in Cor’s gut and he pointedly kept moving towards the bar, not slowing. The lights inside were off except for one beaming in from the back of the kitchen. It was enough light for Cor to see someone sitting at the bar alone. He reached out and twisted the handle, praying it wasn’t locked and breathing out slowly when it opened.

The bell over the door rang so loud Cor thought it would shatter the windows.

“Sorry,” the body at the bar turned slightly. “We’re closed for the night.”

Cor stared, the corners of his mouth turned down because part of his very _soul_ was looking at him with eyes that were nearly lifeless. “I thought you were open till after midnight,” he murmured, trying for light-hearted and landing somewhere in the vague direction of distressed.

Nyx looked like death warmed over, and it took a lot of willpower Cor wasn’t aware he possessed at the moment not to walk over and wrap his arms around him. Something was off. Something was very, _very_ wrong.

“You look like shit.”

Cor tried to give him a crooked smile and hope it came off more endearing than shiteatting. “You’re one to talk.” He let the smile go, his mouth falling back into a frown as he stared. The dark circles under Nyx’s eyes were so pronounced it looked like he’d been punched a few times. “When was the last time you slept?” 

“When was the last time you _bathed_ ,” Nyx fired back, then the corners of his mouth tugged downwards into a frown. “Sorry, did you just get back?” He was slumped in his chair, uncaring.

Cor knew what this was. Cor knew _exactly_ what this was. Something was going on and Nyx was literally just going through the motions of life. Muscle memory. He replied snarkily to quips, he responded when spoken to. He retained enough awareness to realize what was being asked of him but outside of that he was just muscle and tendon pulling bones along.

Cor moved slow because he didn’t want to throw anything off. He hid his concern by playing it off casually. He turned an upturned chair over and sat on it beside Nyx. “Just filed my report with the King,” he said slowly. Nyx was watching him, but he had a weird distant look in his eyes. “Was heading to my apartment but decided to stop by here.”

“Oh, welcome back?” He didn’t seem to notice Cor’s frown at the hesitant response. “Why did you come here? I’m sure your tired.”

“I wanted to see you,” Cor stated simply, because it was true and he had the feeling Nyx needed some blunt truth in his life at the moment.

It seemed to work, because the younger man laughed. “I’m not worth seeing.” His eyes struck off somewhere distant before sliding to the table. “Not worth much of anything…”

Words crowded onto the back of Cor’s tongue but he held them there, watching Nyx quietly. He wouldn’t believe him right now if he spoke any of them, it would be like talking to a wall. That overpowering feeling came over him again, the one that told him to step up, to wrap his arms around Nyx and just hold him. But he knew better, knew the other would startle and hide away. Whatever had happened was affecting everyone in the Galahdian Quarter.

“I’ll get you a drink-”

Cor moved before he could think too much about it, reaching out and grabbing Nyx’s wrist as he rose. He stiffened just as Nyx did, both from the shock of colors sharpening back into brighter hues as well as the direct connection. Nyx seemed to break out of his stupor for a moment, glancing down at where Cor’s fingers were circling his wrist.

“Sit.” It came out as more of a command than he’d meant for it too, but he desperately wanted Nyx to sit down and stop fidgeting, to look at him with more than a dead-eyed stare.

Nyx seemed to take particular offense to that, and glared at him. “Don’t start ordering me around.” His voice was icy, a storm brewing behind dull blue eyes. But as quickly as his temper flared, it disappeared. It hurt Cor like a physical punch.

He tried again. “Sit.” He forced a gentleness into his voice, a patience he truly didn’t have and quietly thanked the Six when Nyx obeyed. “I’ve been on radio silence for three months,” he explained once Nyx was facing him. He kept his wrist in his hand, his fingers pressed against the the thready pulse there. “The King won’t tell me a damn thing about what’s going on. Wanted me to sleep first.” He clenched his jaw and scrunched his nose up in frustration. He wanted to growl and snap his teeth at someone like a wounded dog but the only one there was Nyx and he very much needed gentler handling. “What’s going on?”

“Queen Sylva is dead.” Cor flinched, his hand tightening on Nyx’s wrist, but he anchored himself by staring into the blue depths of Nyx’s eyes. He had a million questions but none of them he dared to speak until Nyx finished. “The King sent his Kingsglaive in, upon her request. She was worried about something, but the Emperor attacked anyway despite them being there.” He gave a little half-hearted shrug. “Swept it under the rug as an ‘accident’, burned Tenebrae to the ground where it counted.”

That wasn’t what was bothering Nyx, Cor realized as he moved his eyes to the table and stared at it hard. He felt a tremble run along under Nyx’s skin and quietly rubbed his thumb in a small circle on his wrist while he let his free hand dig into his own hair. “I suppose I’ll have to ask the King for more information on that one,” he murmured, then sighed. He was going to have to ask. Nyx was going to _make_ him ask. “Anything else happen?”

The change in Nyx was so immediate and noticeable that Cor went on high alert like a threat was in the room. The look on Nyx’s face went from smoldering anxiety to dead, like he’d forced some kind of mask on to hide away every raw emotion that was trying to expose itself. His back went straight, and even though he was tired and wanted to pass the fuck out on the table they were sitting at, Cor focused his gaze straight at Nyx and stared, because whatever Nyx said next was a trauma waiting to happen. And he was going to be there when it hit.

“Galahd is gone.” Nyx’s voice cracked right along with the mask he’d put on, and for a heartbreaking moment Cor could see the raw mess that was underneath until that composure was forced back into place. He breathed deep, but there were tears glassing his eyes. “Imperials took a chance,” he continued, swallowing hard. “They took a chance and _won_.” Then his voice fell flat as he went into more detail, because at that point Nyx’s emotions were probably like a live wire, raw and painful. Cor stayed quiet, listening to him as he spoke, letting him dump all the information at his feet even if he would have to quietly piece it all together later to make it make sense.

He just let Nyx talk until he couldn’t talk anymore, then he let him have his respite, stroking his wrist soothingly.

“I’m tired.” The confession was almost a whisper.

“Then you should sleep.” Cor wanted to stand up, drag Nyx upstairs and force him into the bed that was there, but he kept his seat.

Nyx laughed, but it wasn’t a real one. It was dry and sounded more like a cough. “I can’t…” he frowned a little, then looked at Cor. “I don’t understand. I keep thinking that maybe if Lib and I had been there, maybe we could have helped…” There was a look on his face, like he was sure Cor was going to tell him to fuck off. “They killed my little sister…”

Cor knew what this was, because he’d lived it in some distant past he didn’t care to remember. Survivor’s Guilt had taken many a man from the world because of all the ‘what-ifs’ and ‘could-haves’ that would slowly eat away at your soul until nothing was left of it. Seeing it eating away at the other half of himself was killing him.

He reached out, not knowing if his touch would be accepted but knowing he had to do _something_ before Nyx let it eat him alive. He tunneled his fingers into Nyx’s hair and gently scratched at the hairline before pressing into his neck gently. Nyx took a deep breath and shuddered, meeting his gaze.

“You can’t beat yourself up over something you couldn’t control,” Cor told him, gently massaging his fingers into the back of his scalp. “You can’t blame yourself because you weren’t there, sure you could have saved a few more. Maybe one or two wouldn’t have died.” He squeezed gently, setting his mouth in a hard line. “But what good would that do the world? And what good would that have done you to die there as well?”

You’re _here_.  
You _matter_.

Nyx took another low, shaky breath before he tried to laugh. It died as soon as it left his lips, falling pitifully to the floor. His shoulders hunched down, and Cor got the distinct impression he was trying to hide. “You probably need to go home, huh? Sorry…”

Cor set his mouth in a firm line because he wasn’t being sent away. “I’m right where I need to be.”

Nyx took another shaky breath and breathed it out slowly. “Okay.”

* * *

Cor spent the greater part of half an hour just sitting there with Nyx at the table. They didn’t really talk, or say anything to each other that was earth shattering. Just murmured nonsense now and again until Nyx finally closed his eyes, head lulling to the side. Cor was careful when he moved, easing his chair closer until Nyx was resting his head on his shoulder. He let him, until Nyx’s breathing leveled out into a rhythm that meant he’d finally passed out from exhaustion.

He knew where Nyx’s room was after he’d helped Libertus bring him upstairs after being punched by Tredd. He found the room easily enough, glancing out the door just in time to see a sleepy eyed Libertus staring at him warily. He took one look at the passed out Nyx in Cor's arms, grunted a soft ‘thank you’ and returned to his room.

Cor wasn’t physically coordinated enough at the moment to actually undress Nyx, and opted instead to just tug his shoes and socks off. It would probably be less awkward anyway when the younger man woke up later, because his bed looked soft and Cor was going to indulge in the idea of going to sleep on it with a passed out Nyx Ulric pressed up against him.

Ethics be damned.

He was careful as he maneuvered Nyx onto the bed, not that the man had woken the entire trip up the stairs. He hadn’t even grumbled, but Cor didn’t want to risk it. He eased him under the covers then situated himself on top after toeing his shoes off. He didn’t want to get the bed sheets dirty and he was still covered in dust and ash from his mission.

Pressing his back against the headboard and stealing a pillow to prop behind his head, Cor closed his eyes, one hand pressing his fingers through Nyx’s hair again, his fingers moving in a slow, rhythmic motion. Nyx murmured something under his breath then snuggled closer to him, his face pressed up against Cor’s thigh.

A few hours later that was exactly how Libertus found them, both men sleeping soundlessly until Libertus managed to wake Cor. He was loathe to leave the bed, but the promise of a hot shower and a warm meal overwrote his need to stay next to his soulmate after Libertus assured him Nyx would still be there when he was done.

Nyx wasn’t going anywhere.

Cor was going to tangle himself up so much in Nyx’s life that he couldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have all my angst. _Take it._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note, I'm going to stop posting on Reverie in Moonlight until this catches up with it. Only because chapter 10 of Reverie and I think chapter 6 of Side Quest Unlocked will posted together because they feed off each other. If I write it correctly, you'll want to read chapter 6 of this first before chapter 10 of Reverie.
> 
> I'll have a better idea of where I am after I type up chapter 5. Which may happen later today. I'm going in to have a procedure done tomorrow morning, so I'm gonna be down and out Friday all day. I'm going to try and make it up by giving you guys an extra chapter today and maybe another two Saturday. If nothing else, know that Chapter 9 of Reverie is ready to go, I just wanted it's Cor POV version ready to go up with chapter 10 to help it make sense. xD
> 
> I'm tired. ;A; Goodnight.

# Side Quest Unlocked: [Cor]

# Chapter 4

A date.

Cor ever so quietly _freaked the fuck out_ because Nyx was going to be in his home and he was pretty sure he was breaking some cardinal rule somewhere. Tomorrow afternoon, Nyx was going to be in his apartment cooking food in his small kitchen and part of him wasn’t exactly sure he was ready to be judged on the state of his home.

Not that it was in much of a state. Cor literally just slept and sometimes ate there. Most of the time he was either at work or… well at The Silver Coeurl staring at Nyx Ulric.

What if Nyx didn’t like his place?

“Marshal?”

Cor snapped out of his internal panic attack to look up as Monica entered the room. He didn’t say anything, just watched her as she closed the door.

“I need to head out for the evening, there are some more files to fill out and after that everything will be caught up from when you were gone for so long.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. Playing catch-up always was a little daunting. “Thank you, Monica. Have a nice evening.” 

She flashed him a smile. “When you finish, go home and get some rest.” And then she was gone. Cor didn’t really think much about it, just dove headfirst into the files that needed to be finished. The faster he got done, the faster he could go talk to Nyx and maybe gauge where he might stand with the other man.

If nothing else, maybe he could talk him into going out for dinner instead-

His door opened and closed without a knock. Cor didn’t look up because there was only one person that did that.

“No.”

“We need to talk.”

Cor looked up and stared hard a Regis. “The answer is still no.”

Regis very carefully deposited himself into the chair across from Cor’s desk. “You’re not letting me talk,” he accused, leaning back into the chair and crossing his legs. “It might not be about what you think it is.”

“If it’s about what I’m thinking about, then answer will always be no.”

Regis smiled. It was a smile Cor knew far _far_ to well. “Clarus, I,” he paused for dramatic affect, smile still plastered on his face. “And you, are going on a little road trip.”

“Why.”

The smile stayed in place, oozing sickly sweet. “The Queen,” he murmured. “Would like a very specific treat from Galdin Quay.”

Cor was very much _not_ amused. “And this requires me how?”

“You see,” the King said casually, crossing his arms over his chest. “After my little misadventure with the Regalia, the a certain Marshal decided to write into a report that I should always be accompanied by two bodyguards. I have two, _Royally_ appointed guards. Clarus, and yourself.”

Cor pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not.”

Regis’ smile spread wider. “We leave in the morning.”

* * *

Cor stared at his phone where he was parked at the checkpoint, waiting for the guard there to clear them. He’d rolled his eyes, but knew they had to follow procedure. He would reprimand them otherwise. Right now he was staring at his phone, wishing desperately that Nyx would answer the damn text he’d sent him instead of sleeping like a normal human would be doing at the ass-crack of dawn.

He’d tried to call before that but it had gone to voicemail. He’d listened to the pre-recorded message then hung up. Texting had been his second option. He just wasn’t sure he’d get a reply. Nyx was… skittish, as odd as that sounded. Cor could tell that being around him made him happy, but it was almost as if he didn’t believe it was for him. The fact that he had to cancel this date that had been in the works for nearly a week now kind of sealed his fate on the matter. 

He was losing trust points here.

Because Regis was petty.

He tapped on his contacts list and called Monica, watching Regis through the window as he spoke to the guard at the gate. Clarus was sitting in the backseat - because Regis was a _child_ and had called ‘shotgun’ - watching him curiously.

“Monica,” he murmured into the mouthpiece. “I’m sorry for waking you, something came up.” He waited for a few seconds until he knew she was properly awake, which didn’t usually take her long. “I have a problem.”

 _”I’ll say,”_ she murmured over the phone but didn’t elaborate. _”What is it you need?”_

“I _had_ ,” he stressed the word, glaring at Clarus in the rearview mirror, “Plans with…” he trailed off, not wanting to say Nyx’s name out loud now that he thought about it. Clarus could start digging for info, especially since that’s what the King wanted.

 _”With Nyx? I’m guessing you can’t make it then?”_. She didn’t sound surprised, which stung his pride a bit, but he swept it away.

“Yes. I texted him already.” He glanced to the side, seeing the King heading back for the car. “See if you can’t send him something… I’m not sure what.”

There was silence over the line for a moment before Monica spoke back up. _”Flowers, perhaps?”_

“Would those work?” he murmured, brow furrowed. “He likes blue. Like the ocean.” _Like his eyes._ The passenger side door opened and Regis plopped back into the seat.

 _”I think I know just want to get him,”_ there was a pleasantness in her voice that told Cor she was smiling.

“Thank you Monica.” He hung up the phone and started the car, ignoring the look Regis was giving him as he pulled off down the bridge past the checkpoint. If they made good time and didn’t run into any problems along the way, he’d be back and maybe even have time for dinner with Nyx.

But when Regis was involved there was _always_ a Gods damned problem.

The first leg of their journey was quiet. The drive down the bridge and over the border into Leide passed with nothing other than a shift in the seat from Clarus and the gentle humming of Regis. Cor was almost relaxed, the hum of the motor and the long stretch of the open road before him something he’d missed from his younger days.

“Are you going to tell us a little about him?”

Cor sighed, resigning himself to the fact that Regis was very much going to use the trip to play Twenty-fucking-questions and Clarus was curious enough about him to _not_ help him at all.

“No,” he stated bluntly.

Regis whined faintly from his seat. “Cor, c’mon. It’s not like it’ll kill him if I know.”

Cor glanced at him from the corner of his eye, frown still in place. “It might.”

Sighing, Regis leaned back in his seat. “I’m just curious,” he finally stated after another mile marker had swept passed. “Seeing you happy is… Something I’ve always wanted. You’re my friend Cor, I’m glad you found him finally. I just thought it would be nice to see what kind of person the other half of one of my closest friends is.”

Cor fell silent, staring straight ahead at the road as he drove. “Who or what he is shouldn’t matter,” Cor finally murmured after the silence had stretched on for a moment or two. “He’s the other half of my soul. That’s all that should matter.”

“That’s all that does matter,” Regis reassured him, spotting the sign for Galdin Quay as they neared the turn off that would take them down the winding road towards the beach. “When I met Aulea, the world turned upside down. I think I knew when we were kids that she was meant to be mine… But I didn’t find out until much later, after I sat on the throne.”

He slowed the car to go around a curve, grinding his teeth gently. “He’s younger than I am,” he murmured, giving in a little. He didn’t miss the delighted look the King gave him, as if Cor were entrusting him with something more valuable than words. Which, Cor realized; he was. “He... “ he frowned a little, remembering how Nyx had acted after telling him about the fall of Galahd. Nyx had acted as if he didn’t matter at first. As if the fact his world was crumbling apart shouldn’t affect Cor at all. “I’m still earning his trust,” he confessed, staring at the white-knuckled grip he had on the steering wheel.

The King made a sound in the back of his throat and Cor felt Clarus’ hand clasp his shoulder gently.

“He’s Galahdian,” the King stated and lurched slightly when Cor hit the brakes and turned to look at him.

He didn’t think it would matter honestly, but he’d avoided saying it because he knew. There were people at the Citadel that would condemn Nyx as a leech simply because he had a few braids in his hair, because his skin was a little darker, or because his accent was a little rough around the edges. Nyx would laugh about it, but then he’d go home and _think_ about it. Because that’s who he was. He’d bottle it up and let the stress of it errode the cork until it popped and all the anxiety spilled out.

Regis was holding his hands up, watching Cor warily because Cor had his teeth bared like a dog cornering its next victim. “Some of the Glaives mentioned seeing you in the Galahdian Quarter regularly now,” he explained carefully, because Cor was a bundle of nerves when it came to Nyx. 

Once… Once he was sure Nyx understood and wouldn’t just _leave_ because he thought he wasn’t wanted, he knew he’d be okay talking about him. But until then, until he knew Nyx was okay…

A horn honked behind him and Cor looked back to see a car sitting there, the engine revving impatiently. Taking a deep breath and easing it back out, he continued down the road to Galdin Quay. They arrived in silence.

He and Clarus trailed along behind the King as he approached the Mother of Pearl, ordering a Tenebraen Berry Opera. It was a tart that apparently the Queen craved from time to time, so he would bring it home to surprise her every-so-often. Cor gave him that, because if he ever found out Nyx liked a particular thing, he’d probably go out of his way to make sure he got it.

Cor frowned as he pulled the car back out onto the road, realizing he didn’t actually know anything Nyx might actually like other than the color blue. He supposed he could look into it more, maybe even ask Libertus about it. 

It was food for thought.

* * *

They stopped at Longwythe to refuel. Cor stuck with the car while Clarus followed Regis into the small shop. He wasn’t all that interested in what the shop had to offer, propping against the hood of the car as the pump ran. He was staring off down the road, not really focusing on anything in particular when movement caught his eye. Frowning, he stopped the pump, placing it back on the tank before he walked a short distance down the road to get a better look at whatever it was.

It was… large and…

_Shit._

He dove to the side as the Gigantuar sprayed needles every-which-way, cursing loudly as he rolled off the side of the road into the grass. “Clarus! Keep Regis inside!” he bellowed and summoned his sword. The damn thing was huge, and Cor quietly wondered if he was forever cursed to be delayed when he was trying desperately to get home.

The Gigantuar was also built like a gods damn tank, Cor realized as he tried to whittle its health down to nothing. It would spin, glare at him angrily then fire off needles, some of which were sticking out of him at this point in more than one spot. He felt like a pin cushion in an old woman’s sewing kit. Clarus had joined him at some point, using his sword like a cleaver while Cor darted in for quick, precise strikes. Clarus had an easier time blocking any hits though he still got a few needles for his troubles. He was hitting it hard enough to keep its attention, though Cor had to back off more than once to keep from earning the full force of its aggression again.

It fell finally when Regis stomped over angrily and threw fire at it, the thing shrieking before falling down, turning black. “I’m not a child,” Regis growled at them, holding up his hand to show the magic that glittered between his fingers. “I can defend myself.”

Cor rolled his eyes. “Yes, because that’s what Insomnia needs. Headlines: The King Killed on Outing by Huge Ass Cactuar.”

Reigs stared at him. “There are worse ways to go I suppose.”

They spent the night in Longwythe because Cor had an ass full of needles and couldn’t handle sitting in the car seat for longer than half an hour before he felt like killing himself. It was better the next day, thanks to an elixir and a pillow in his seat. He could practically see his life with Nyx flying away because he couldn’t seem to do anything right. He wished he could have made it back home the night before.

He’d had much rather of had Nyx pulling giant Cactuar needles out of his ass than Regis tutting over him like a mother hen and calling him stupid.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I technically could have skipped this chapter, but then you’d miss Cor’s reaction to Nyx’s food inside his head and it was endlessly amusing to me.

# Side Quest Unlocked: [Cor]

# Chapter 5

Cor didn’t remember walking to the bar honestly. He remembered going inside to thank Monica and had ended up telling her exactly why they’d had to drive all the way to Galdin Quay then had to spend the night in Longwythe. She’d gotten a good laugh out of it, smiled at him and told him by no uncertain means necessary that Nyx Ulric would forgive him. He felt as if she’d met him already, which knowing Monica, she might have.

He’d left his office, still dusty from the road and the fight with the oversized cactus because fuck bathing in a tiny bathroom when Regis and Clarus were breathing on the other side of the door. He’d also had to sleep on the floor despite Regis telling him it was perfectly fine for him to take the bed. Clarus, bless him, was a broad man and took up the tiny bed on his own. Cor wasn’t sleeping on the same mattress with Regis because he’d traveled with him before and the King was a thrice damned _cuddle fiend_.

Cor rubbed his face and stared at the door. He’d started walking home and his feet had brought him in front of The Silver Coeurl. Which made him chuckle and maybe panic a little because if he was telling himself to go _home_ apparently this is where his brain thought home was. Ignoring the weird little knots that developed in his stomach, he opened the door and knocked on it as he stepped inside.

“We’re not-” Libertus’ head appeared around the corner, getting ready to tell him they weren’t open until he saw Cor. “Ah.” The smile that broke across the other man’s face was worrying and Cor eyed him with renewed wariness. “It’s the date ditcher.”

The corners of Cor’s mouth folded down, even though he could tell Libertus was just teasing him.

“Oh Cor’s here?” Crowe’s voice piped in behind him then she was leaning around the door, eyes lighting up mischievously. “Ohhhh.”

“Where’s Nyx?” he asked, to which both smiled warily.

“Hiding,” Libertus stated with something that sounded akin to glee. “He’s been hiding all morning. Its hilarious. I think he’s made a nest in his bed, he’s refusing to leave it.”

Crowe took mercy on him. “He might have been a little upset, but he’s taking it well.” Her smile widened when Cor felt a little twitch run through him and glanced towards the stairs. “Go on, go coax your boyfriend out of his bed. Or coax him to let you in it. One of the two.”

Cor gave her another sideways look before starting up the stairs, wondering if Nyx was more upset than they were letting on and there was some kind of attack waiting for him up there. He found his wayward companion where they said he would be, nested in his bed with a pillow pulled over his head. It was rather amusing honestly because the blankets were tossed all around as if he’d been wallowing in them before burying his face. Guessing Nyx was either asleep or just didn’t know he was there, Cor tapped his knuckles against the door.

Nyx sputtered and started cursing as the pillow swept off his head, leaving him a little disheveled. “Shiva’s frozen ass, Libertus. I swear-”

Cor raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think I’ve heard that one before.” He wondered how Regis would react to it. He filed it away for later use. Maybe he should get Nyx to teach him Galahdian curses…

Nyx was staring at him as if he’d seen a ghost, or as if he was surprised to see him. That stung. He much rather to get a bit of a happier reaction out of the other man.

“Did you just get back?”

Cor blinked and glanced down at himself, realizing he was still covered in dirt and dust. He frowned a little. He should probably start heading home before coming here to clean up. He hated to keep imposing on Nyx and Libertus, but he also realized why he did it. Mostly because he wanted to be back within his natural orbit around Nyx, and also because it was proof to a man who was already a bit timid that he wasn’t lying to him when he said he was being pulled off to the middle of nowhere. Hell he’d even brought home a needle that had been stuck in his thigh to show Nyx. Though the freakout might not be worth it… Or actually, it might be.

“Yeah,” Cor said after a moment, watching an array of emotions play through Nyx’s eyes before it landed somewhere in the field of annoyed acceptance.

“Go take a shower, you big dumbass.”

Somewhere, deep in Cor’s gut, a warm little spark flared to light. “Does that mean I can get dinner?” It was a hopeful cast of a line into a dead pond with no bait on the hook. But maybe, just maybe he’d get a bite.

Nyx snorted at him. “I don’t know,” he groused. “Can I still get breakfast?”

That little warm spark grew into a rather nice fire and Cor stared at Nyx, eyes locked on his face and staring because Nyx Ulric had probably just unknowingly asked him to stay the night and cook breakfast in the morning.

“I’ll go take a shower,” he murmured and left down the hallway.

* * *

Cor let the hot water drown him for a moment before he pressed his forehead against the cool tile of the shower wall. That little echo of panic was fluttering in the back of his mind again because he never let it openly panic. He just kinda jammed it into a back room and slammed the door shut. Now it was banging against that door and demanding his attention because he was _staying_ the night. Not waiting around until it was late and he needed to go home. Actually _staying_.

Okay.

There were about a million things that could go wrong over the next few hours. Cor tried really hard to pinpoint a few, discovered more than just a few and backed off like it was a fire he’d stuck his hand too close to.

Sighing, he exited the shower and peered at the clothes Nyx had placed on the hamper by the door. The shirt was nearly as oddly cute as the one he’d borrowed before. It was still hanging in his closet off to the side. He was still debating on returning it. This one was also chocobo themed and a small idea started puzzling itself together in some dark recess of Cor’s brain. He pulled it on and tucked his legs into the loose pants that were way more comfortable than they had right to be.

When he left the bathroom and approached the stairs he could hear laughter coming from the bar. It sounded like Libertus, so Cor edged his way down curiously, wondering what the ruckus was about.

“At least you didn’t offer to wash his hair,” Crowe was saying and Cor nearly choked. “Lib did, then freaked out.”

Something sounded like it was dying down there, making little disgusted sounds before Nyx’s voice rose from it. “I don’t want to hear this!”

“I’ve got a line for you, Nyx,” Libertus was saying as Cor took another cautious step. “Tell him you know he’s busy, but you’d really like to be added to his ‘to-do’ list.” Cor missed a step and grabbed the banister in time to keep himself from tumbling down the stairs. He stared straight ahead for a moment, ignoring the laughter downstairs as he completely zoned out at the thought of Nyx actually asking that, which was the most unlikely thing to happen in his life.

He also realized that it would very, _very_ much work.

“You’ve been saved from further torture,” Lib announced as Cor finally took the last few steps down the stairs, then started cracking up again when his eyes slid from Cor’s face to the shirt Nyx had given him.

He ignored him because if he was honest with himself, he was probably never giving any of the clothes back. Instead he let his eyes rove around the bar which was still oddly empty. Maybe they were staying closed tonight? He turned his gaze on the spot he normally sat at and gave pause because a vase of blue flowers was sitting there.

“Oh, good she did order them for me.” He said it more to himself than anything, making a mental note to find a way to properly thank Monica for helping him with Regis’ bullshit.

“Wait, you did send them?”

Cor’s eyebrows came together as he tilted his head to look at Nyx. Twenty different problems rose at the same time. The most important thought _should_ have been that Nyx didn’t think he would apologize for being a ‘date ditcher’ as Libertus had called him. Unfortunately that wasn’t the one his brain latched onto. “Is there someone else sending you flowers?” Because if there was he needed to have a talk with him. Or well, the bottom of his shoe did.

“No! No!” Nyx was holding his hands up and there was laughter in his eyes. “It’s just, I wasn’t… expecting them? I mean, thank you. They were nice, but you didn’t have to.”

Cor rocked back on his heels a bit, then looked away as he raised his hand to scratch at the back of his neck. There was an odd tickle in the back of his neck, and for some reason he couldn’t make himself look Nyx in the eyes. “I wanted to apologize, and asked Monica how I should. She suggested these, but I was in Leide taking care of something for Regis, so I asked her to send them here.” He was rambling, he realized as he stared at the flowers because there was no way he could look at Nyx right now without wanting to hide. Which was the oddest feeling he’d ever had in his life.

Nyx was telling him that he didn’t have to apologize but he _had_. Because at least then maybe the other man would understand that it wasn’t because he didn’t _want_ to be here. He did, constantly. It was why he kept showing up on his doorstep having gone days without a bath and needing clean clothes. Sure he could go home and take care of that. During the time before he’d met Nyx he would have.

But Nyx came first, now.

“Thank you.” The words snapped Cor out of his stupor. “And welcome back.”

Nyx was watching him, smiling a little and Cor felt his stomach do a little backflip because Nyx was still the only one to do that, to welcome him back without question. He didn't care where Cor had been, didn't care what he'd been doing. He'd done it from the start, before either of them had even known what they were to each other. Staring at him now, Cor realized there had been and still were a lot of things he wasn't sure about. Finding his match had been one, at one time. He hadn't been sure he'd ever find them, or that they would actually _fit_. But here he was, standing in front of him with that little crooked smile of his and Cor just…

He reached out, slow and careful. His initial thought was to touch Nyx's cheek, stroke his fingers along his jaw. He wanted to, but he resisted, watching as Nyx tended ever so slightly when his hand passed out of his line of sight. Instead he reached back and gently grabbed one of the braids tucked behind his ear, tugging it gently.

“Sorry,” he murmured as he pulled his hand back. “I’ve been wanting to do that for _days_.” It wasn’t a complete lie, not if you replaced tugging a braid with pressing his lips to the corner of Nyx’s jaw.

Nyx was standing up, chuckling softly as he started to make his way around the bar. “I’m going to make that dinner,” he announced then grinned from ear to ear, the action making his blue eyes light up in a way that made Cor sit up just a bit straighter. “Let me show you my domain.”  
Nyx’s kitchen was beautiful, Cor decided as he walked passed the double doors. It made his little square or tile and metal seem rather sad in comparison. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t gotten a chance to see it. He investigated the area, peering into drawers and cabinets like a cat in a new house until he came upon what he figured was a wine cooler. It looked like a smaller version of a fridge with a glass door and metal racks inside. Sitting on the bottom of it, was a glass jar with what looked like some of Libertus’ liquor in it.

“Don’t drink that,” Nyx called from across the kitchen. “Lib is trying something new. It tastes like paint thinner and hurts to swallow.” Cor watched in mild fascination as Nyx scrunched his face up and stuck his tongue out. This man, Cor realized, was adorable. “I was sick for three days. I’m saving it for revenge or blackmail. I have decided yet.”

Amusement buzzed through Cor’s head as he walked back towards where Nyx stood. “Am I helping with dinner, or is this service and a show?” he asked, smirking slightly when Nyx snorted.

“You sit on that stool,” Nyx ordered, pointing at one sitting at a bar like area on the island in the center of the kitchen. “And you will be amazed by my culinary skills learned from the top, master chef of my home town.” Cor took his seat and turned back to Nyx, raising an eyebrow. “Grandma Ulric was meaner than a wet coeurl, but she could cook. And I was her favorite, so I got to watch.”

He was puffed up, Cor noted as he boasted. They exchanged stories as Nyx cooked. Nyx telling him a little bit about his family and Cor mentioning he’d been Regis’ bodyguard at the tender age of fifteen. Nyx’s subsequent freakout saved him from the knowledge that Cor had joined the military when he’d only been thirteen. He just told him he’d lied about his age and moved on.

It was nice though, sharing those stories.

The plate that landed in front of him was something he recognized, if not without a few new embellishments. Cor himself knew how to cook. He could rough it with the best of them. He had, actually. But he had one dish he always liked to eat when he could, something reserved for himself, or when he was in good company. It was rather fitting since Nyx was sitting right beside him.

“I see you met Monica,” he murmured as he stared at the plate. The little sneak had either given Nyx a hint at what he liked, or blatantly shown him. Either way, Nyx had made it his own instead of just a standard copy, and that made that weird fluttering in his stomach come back.

“She may have shown up upon a plea for help,” Nyx admitted beside him. “Wasn’t me though.”

Cor chuckled, imagining Monica instructing Nyx on how to cook the thing then letting Nyx go about his business to concoct this. It looked the same, but the smell was completely different, so Cor picked up his fork and shoved part of it in his mouth without another word. Beside him, Nyx sputtered but his little mental break down was quickly forgotten when Cor stared at the dish.

Cor knew how to cook. He was perfectly good at it. Not a master chef by any means, but the fair he provided was good and tasted alright in his humble opinion. This, however. _This_. Whatever Nyx’s grandmother had taught him back in Galahd, it was genius. She needed a shrine in her fucking honor. And Nyx, the little shit, hadn’t shared it with anyone because the old woman had asked him not to.

Flavors that had a little bit of spice, but not too much played across his tongue. Something that brought the citrus from the orange out, but kept it from being overpowering. There were also spices in there Cor was sure he’d never tasted before. It gave the meat almost a smokey flavor that had Cor eyeing the dish wondering if he could get away with devouring the whole thing and then eating Nyx’s.

Nyx was groaning beside him because he’d spaced out and had just been staring at the plate for the past few minutes. He blinked when the other man started mumbling something about fucking things up and how he should have just followed Monica’s instructions.

“Nyx.”

Nyx wasn’t listening, grumbling something about biscuits instead.

“ _Nyx._ ” Cor practically hissed his name this time, but still nothing.

“Or Soup.”

Cor reached out and grabbed a braid, tugging it a bit harder than he’d intended, given by the yelp Nyx let out. When Nyx turned to face him, Cor moved his hand behind the other man’s head and moved in closer. He didn’t give him a chance to run, capturing his mouth, and cursing himself because he was too weak to resist when Nyx was this close.

Nyx turned into putty in his hands, leaning into Cor and seemingly getting lost. Cor wasn’t proud of himself because he was definitely taking advantage of the situation, pulling Nyx a little closer and letting his tongue move and explore Nyx’s mouth like some adventurer conquering a new found land. Roving over teeth and brushing against the soft muscle that was Nyx’s tongue. He pulled him closer, letting Nyx wedge himself between his thighs and wished he could pull him closer.

He had to stop.

He pulled back and breathed in hard, because Nyx had no damn self preservation and if he was to allow Cor to kiss him like _that_ , well… Cor was going to want a little more privacy than a kitchen to continue down that road.

Nyx was coming back to himself slowly, his gaze focusing on where his fingers were bunching up the front of Cor’s borrowed shirt. He blinked slowly, then let go. Cor saw the apology forming on his lips before it fully escaped, and jerked him forwards a little, even as Nyx started to pull back.

“Shut up,” he breathed out and watched as Nyx’s pupils bloomed outwards, taking over the blue of his irises.

Those eyes were laughing, Cor noticed, as Nyx opened his mouth. That little crooked smirk was back as well. “Yes, sir.”

Cor gave in to the urge and kissed him again because at least Nyx wasn’t running away.


	6. Chapter 6

# Side Quest Unlocked: [Cor]

# Chapter 6

Cor’s immediate reaction to Clarus’ summons was suspicion. While he trusted the King’s Shield, he didn’t _trust_ him. Clarus’ loyalty was to his King and to his mate. Cor was a friend, sure, but if the King had something going on and wanted Cor involved, Clarus was usually the one sent in to handle it, if only because Cor was loathe to punch the man in his throat.

He’d learned not to take that route when he was younger.

Sitting in Amicitia’s office, Cor tried to distract himself with some of the older photos hanging on the wall. One in particular caught his eye, an old image from when they’d been out on the road. All of them were there, even Cid. He wondered how that old coot was doing.

Clarus was on the phone, his back to Cor as he stared out the large window behind his desk, speaking in low tones to whom he assumed was his wife, or young daughter giving all the cooing he was doing. He rolled his eyes because of course Clarus, the toughest out of the whole group aside from Cid, would be the biggest pushover when it came to children.

But then, Iris was a cute little thing.

Cor cupped his chin in his palm, watching Clarus’ back until the man finally said his goodbyes and turned to look at him. He was back in ‘Shield’ mode it seemed, if the careful blankness on his face was any indication.

“Is there something Regis needs me to handle?” Cor asked, though he doubted it. Normally Regis asked him personally. “Or is it something you need handled for Regis?”

Clarus’ face fell slightly but he quickly shook his head and took a seat. “No, nothing like that.” He paused thoughtfully, scratching the side of his neck. “If I must explain… I wanted to check on you.”

Cor actually laughed. “ _Why_? I’m the last person you usually check on.” It kinda surprised Cor to see Clarus flinch, as if his words had stung. But he couldn’t help it if it was the truth. No one expected him to get hurt, no one expected him to _die_ out there. He’d gained the title ‘The Immortal’ for a reason, no matter how much he hated it, so no one was surprised when he was gone for days, weeks or months then came back unscathed. No one bid him farewell or welcomed him back.

Except Nyx.

Clarus didn’t seem to know how to answer his question, he floundered for a moment before sighing. “Because,” he murmured, letting his shoulders slump a little. “I know before you just… zoned out and did what you needed to do, but now there’s someone actually waiting at home for you, it’s not like before, Cor.”

Cor let the retort he’d gotten ready to throw at Clarus die on his tongue. Before, when he’d been twenty and still overly confident in his abilities, he hadn’t cared if he didn’t make it back to the Citadel. There were times he’d pulled himself home on will power alone, pulling himself by his fingernails along the road. Because how could someone so disgustingly cold and aloof like him have a match out there somewhere? And if there was one, it seemed only fitting they would be all the things he wasn’t. A counterbalance to match the mass of cynical energy he was.

Then he’d grabbed ahold of Nyx Ulric and all of that had changed.

Nyx didn’t trust people openly, he was kind but had a mischievous streak in him that Cor was slowly uncovering. Cor had witnessed him and Libertus get into arguments, knew Nyx could be right vicious when he wanted to be, but forgave most so openly it hurt. He didn’t venture outside of the Galahdian Quarter often, when he did it was usually to be stared at or called names as he walked down the street. But Nyx forgave the people who thought he was there with the rest of the refugees just to live within the city. It wasn’t their fault they didn’t know he’d been there going on nine-years, long before the fall of his home.

No, Nyx was enough to balance out all of Cor’s stupid little quirks and hang-ups, and Cor was slowly learning how to counter Nyx’s own tendency to be self-deprecating.

“I know that,” Cor admitted after a moment of silence.

“Good,” Clarus murmured, then straightened his shoulders. “Which is why I think you should let the King meet him.”

He stared very pointedly at Clarus. “No.”

The older man sighed dramatically. “He’s going to get his way eventually,” he warned. “You know how he is. He’ll figure out a way to get him here and meet him and then you’ll get angry about it.”

“If,” Cor stated sharply. “Nyx wants to meet the King of his _own_ volition, that is for him to decide. Not for Regis to trick him into.”

“So,” Clarus hummed, rubbing his chin. “His name is Nyx, is it?”

Cor cursed him and walked out of the office.

* * *

His phone wasn’t in his pocket. Something he was used to doing, if he was honest with himself. He forgot it a fair bit because he wasn’t really all that used to using it. He’d never really had anyone to call on it or message. He took it on missions, and usually ended up with a new one after because his was damaged, destroyed or lost. So he wasn’t surprised when he discovered it on his desk, covered under a sheet of paper that was an expense report from Regis’ outing to Galdin Quay. Apparently those needles could do a lot more than stab you in the ass thirty-five times, but the King had promised to pay for the damages delt.

“Ah, Marshal,” Monica’s voice called from her office as he walked by. “The King was looking for you earlier but you weren’t in. I thought you should know.”

Well that was a bullet dodged, Cor decided. He didn’t have any missed calls or messages, and the King knew how to get in touch with him within the Citadel if need be. “It wasn’t important if I’m not sitting in front of him,” he said aloud then paused thoughtfully. “Where’s somewhere good to get lunch?”

Monica’s eyes lit up. “Lunch date?” Cor raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything, waiting patiently for her to answer his question. “There’s a cafe not far from the Galahdian Quarter, a block or so. They have nice teas and coffees there.” 

Turning, Cor stepped out of her office only to pause when she called out. “Oh, and Marshal?” Cor tilted backwards, poking his head back around the door until she came back into view. “Nyx likes stew, if you were wondering what to cook for dinner one night.”

Cor narrowed his eyes, but chose not to ask any questions and made his way to the elevator, then out of the Citadel.

He was almost to the bar when he pulled his phone out and texted Nyx, asking if he wanted to go to lunch with him. By the time he reached the bar a few minutes later, he still hadn’t gotten a response and the lights inside were off, leaving the bar bathed in darkness. He tried the door anyway, finding it locked.

He pulled his phone back out and checked it. The message hadn’t been read yet either. Trying again, Cor tapped out a quick message. **[Where is everyone?]** and waited. Something like ice was steadily creeping along his spine as he waited, but again the message went unread.

He didn’t think or believe that Nyx would just _leave_ , but what if something happened? What if another tragedy had struck the man and he’d just… Cor brushed the thought from his mind, clutching his phone and staring at the message while anxiety rode his nerves, beating them like a jockey in a Chocobo Race.

Cor cursed and called him instead. The moment the phone clicked and he could hear sound in the background he felt relief flood him.

“Where the fuck are you?”

“ _Help me!_ ” was the hissed reply that sent another shock of cold through Cor. Nyx was in trouble? But then the man on the other side of the phone started talking nonsense. Something about a meeting? 

Confused and still troubled, Cor started pacing in front of the bar. “What are you talking about?”

He could hear the exasperation in Nyx’s sigh but the man put on a cheery voice as he spoke again. “Oh you want to meet outside the _Citadel_?” Cor noted the strain on the word and stopped his pacing. “We can swing by my _office_.” More emphasis. Cor stared at the street, his mind boiling and then stopping on what Clarus had told him earlier.

_”He’ll get his way eventually.”_

Cor snarled as he hung up the phone and stalked off back down the street. He was going to skin Regis alive for this. He’d told him no for a reason. Not because he didn’t trust the King, but because he knew how the King was. He could be intimidating without meaning to be so, and Nyx was already timid enough. It was bad enough that Cor reported directly to him, it was why he never really spoke about Regis to Nyx. It put life into a legend he’d rather not be there between them. He’d kept Nyx’s name out of his mouth in the Citadel as well to try and curve a similar problem. He’d _thought_ keeping Nyx away and off the King’s mind would keep him from doing well… This.

It looked like he was wrong.

And Clarus had been right. He was _livid_.

A normal day entering and exiting the Citadel saw an ID check. The guards there took one look at the angry lines etched across his face and stepped the fuck out of his way. No one stopped him as he moved into the elevator because there was no way he could climb all those stairs and still be angry by the time he was winded and reached the top.

The elevator stopped and some people got off on a floor. They stopped at another and more people got on, and Cor silently wondered if he could just kick all of them off and head straight for the upper floors.

It took him longer than he wanted, which was far too long to leave Nyx to Regis’ tender mercies. He just hoped he didn’t find Nyx curled up in a ball of nerves and anxiety when he got there, because if nothing else, Regis was really good at pushing and twisting buttons. When the elevator finally stopped on the floor he needed, Cor forced himself to walk casually out of the elevator and down the hall. There was a guard posted outside of the office. The man took one look at Cor and hesitated.

“Marshal,” he murmured in greeting. “The King is in a meeting, I don’t think he wanted to be interrupted.”

“What a shame,” Cor murmured. “It’s alright, he just forgot to extend the invitation to me.” The guard almost argued, the words dying into a yelp when Cor slammed his foot into the door and marched inside.

He zeroed in on the chair in front of the desk automatically, recognizing the back of Nyx’s head. He didn’t give the other man a chance to move, wrapping his arms around him and dragging him and the chair quite literally away from Regis. The King looked endlessly amused by Cor’s reaction. They would definitely be talking about this little shit-show later.

* * *

Later, it turned out, was after Cor had gotten Nyx back home and the bar had opened. Cor couldn’t stay, despite how much he’d rather sit with Nyx and listen to the stories floating around the bar. The Glaives didn’t mind him being there anymore, acting more like he was just a fixture in the room then one of the leaders of the Crownsguard. But Cor had paperwork he hadn’t finished before leaving, and he’d rather get it done sooner than later, which meant a pile up and even _more_ work. Especially since it had been awhile since Regis had sent him halfway across the continent. He had a feeling he was going to be in for a rude surprise in the following days.

He hadn’t gone back to the Citadel with the intentions of talking to Regis. It was more along the lines of he found the man in his office sitting in his chair.

Cor closed the door behind him carefully, watching as Regis fiddled with his phone. “You do have your own office, you know,” he murmured, leaning against the door warily.

“Aulea is having a book club meeting,” Regis murmured, making a face. “It was a weird book they read this month, I didn’t feel like staying.”

Sighing, Cor walked closer, sitting on the edge of his desk rather than the seat across from it and grabbed the papers he’d been working on. “So why my office?”

“It’s quiet and no one comes in here.” The King paused thoughtfully. “Except me and Clarus. But he’s has gone home for the evening.”

“If only we were all so lucky.”

Regis tilted his head, watching him. “I believe we are, yet you are choosing to be here?”

Cor sighed as he placed the folder of papers in his lap. “I had unfinished paperwork.”

Regis stared at him. “Son.” Cor turned towards him because he was pretty sure he’d never heard that particular tone enter the King’s voice. “You have someone waiting for you. Get the hell out of my Citadel.”

Cor sputtered and stared at Regis who seemed to be completely serious. “Regis-”

“Don’t you ‘Regis’ me! I didn’t get growled at this afternoon so you could come back in here and do paperwork all night,” the King huffed, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m kicking you out. Go spend time with Ulric.” He continued to frown at Cor until he carefully slid the paperwork onto the desk and stood up.

Realizing that with the King in his office he wasn’t getting anything done, Cor obeyed the command and started for his door. It wasn’t everyday he got kicked out of his office. Actually, this was a first.

“I have one question,” Cor murmured, as he paused at the door. “How exactly did you text Nyx so that it seemed like it was coming from my phone?”

The King smiled crookedly at him. “You’re notorious for leaving your phone places,” he replied, leaning back in the chair. “I came down to talk to you actually, but Monica said Clarus had called you up to his office. So I checked, and there it was, sitting on your desk just waiting for a security breach.”

Cor scoffed. “And Clarus was in on this?”

Regis shook his head. “He had no idea. I told him later, after I’d sent the text to him and got yelled at.” He grinned again. “But he wanted to meet him just as bad as I did, so he didn’t cause too much fuss.”

Cor stared at him, rolled his eyes and turned so he could leave. “And Cor,” Regis called, making him pause and turn to look at him as he placed his hand on the doorknob. The King was smiling at him. “I like him.”

He snorted, but the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “I do too.”

Regis’ chuckle followed him down the hall.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, more fluff.  
> :D  
> This one goes to Silver Magiccraft. Thank you for always giving me hearts. <3 Enjoy your Cor fluff.
> 
> *note: if you see any missing letters let me know. My keyboard is acting up and doubling up on some letters and not reading others. I don't always catch them.

# Side Quest Unlocked: [Cor]

# Chapter 7

Cor didn’t know where Nyx was taking him, just that Nyx had asked to go. Of course when Cor had seen the shape Libertus’ car was in, he’d practically shoved his keys into the other man’s hands. The little red thing masquerading as a car was a literal death trap. When Cor had informed Nyx of this very important fact, Nyx had just laughed.

“We’ve been driving it for _years_ , Cor. It hasn’t given us any problems since we got it.”

Cor was horrified, but hoped the emotion hadn’t been transmitted onto his face. “You actually _drive_ it?” After that, Cor had refused to go anywhere with Nyx until the younger man agreed to take Cor’s car. That was how they’d ended up in his silver four-door that had been provided to him by the King, though he was loathe to use the thing.

Nyx, however; was still stunned.

“Cor, you _walk_ everywhere.”

“Yes?”

“You _own_ a fucking car.”

Cor had shrugged and watched in amusement as Nyx rolled his eyes in frustration.

It had taken them about an hour to get to Leide from Insomnia. Nyx wasn’t a reckless driver and kept squarely within the speed limit. Once past the checkpoint and in Leide proper, Cor shifted in his seat.

“Do me a favor,” he murmured and pointed. “Turn right up here.”

Nyx leaned forward a bit, peering at the approaching sign then down at the car’s meters. “We don’t need any gas, but alright.” He pulled into the station, pausing as he put the car in park. “Hammerhead, huh?” He stared up at the large metal structure over the gas pumps and grinned. “Heh. I get it.”

Cor shook his head and climbed out of the seat just in time for a young blonde dressed in less clothing than he was used to bounced up.

“Howdy!” she chirped and grinned. “What can I do ya for, fellas?”

Nyx was immediately enamored with the girl, staring at her as if she were the most charming thing he’d ever met. Cor chuckled because even when she’d been a little brat, Cindy had had that same effect on people. She was older now, and those bright blue eyes clearly didn’t recognize him anymore.

“Is Cid in?” he asked her, earning a beaming smile.

“Sure is! I’ll go grab ‘im for ya!” And off she went, Nyx staring after her, perplexed.

“Who’s Cid?” he asked as he turned back towards Cor, peering up at him curiously.

“You’ll find out in a moment,” he murmured just as the old grey-haired mechanic stepped out of the garage. Cor straightened up a bit out of habit as Cid shambled his way closer. He had a can and his limp was a bit more pronounced from the last time Cor had seen him, but that had been ages ago…

“We’ll I’ll be,” Cid murmured, gaining Nyx’s attention. The old man shuffled past and looked up at Cor with calculating eyes.

If Nyx thought he was about to see some heartfelt reunion between the two, he was in for a surprise. Surprise that quickly showed on his face when Cid hauled off and whacked Cor with his cane.

“That’s fer not callin’!” the old mechanic huffed then smacked him again. “‘N’ that’s fer not stoppin’ by when you were out and about!” Cid snorted at him, glowering. “I know you was out in Leide, so don’t even try to lie, boy.”

Cor just smiled warily. The smacks hadn’t even hurt, barely love taps as far as Cid was concerned. But then the old geezer was staring up at Nyx, looking him up and down. “And jus’ who’re you?”

Nyx took a step back, holding his hands up defensively. “N-nyx! Nyx Ulric, sir.” He watched Cid warely as the old man circled him, shooting Cor a silent plea for help.

He wouldn’t need it. Not when Cid had some kind of sixth sense for matches and was standing now so he could stare at both Cor and Nyx at the same time. Cor even knew the exact moment he figured it out. Even before the murmured ‘well I’ll be,’ escaped the old mechanic.

Cor had watched Cid years ago in Altissa just randomly grab two people off the street and link their hands. He’d watched the confusion on their faces change to wonder. Cid was the one who’d introduced Clarus to his wife. He’d even figured out Regis and Auela were matched, even before Regis had said anything. And he’d tried to find Cor’s as well. He knew because he’d caught him trying.

“Cid, this is Nyx” Cor introduced, placing a hand gently on Nyx’s shoulder. The touch conveyed mored to Cid than words ever would. “Nyx, this is Cid Sophair. We traveled together with the King years ago.”

Nyx stared at Cid with renewed wonder. “Hello.”

Cid looked from Nyx to Cor then back again before nodding to himself. “Good match for ya,” and then he grinned and all was right in the world.

Cor couldn’t explain it, why it meant so much for Cid to meet Nyx. He didn’t care if Regis, Clarus or Weskham liked Nyx. Cor had always had a kinda ‘fuck you’ attitude towards them, even when he’d been fifteen and overconfident. Cid however, was a different story. He’d found himself wondering a lot of times if Cid would be frowning and growling at him for something he’d done. He’d actively sought the older man’s approval and had eventually chalked it up to some primal need for an adult male figure in his life. After all, Prince Regis had been a big baby, Clarus had been busy babying him, and Wesk… Cor never had really though Wesk liked him all that much. For his part, he’d been tolerated at best.

And so with those four words stuck in his head, Cor knew he was going to be okay.

“Why don’t you check out the shop,” Cid suggested, his gaze directed at Nyx. “Stock up on anything ya’ll might need while yer out.”

Nyx tilted his head and at first Cor expected him to argue, but then something sparkled in Nyx’s eyes as he glanced from Cor to Cid, rewarding the older man with a dazzling smile.

“Yes, sir!” Then he was gone.

“Well then,” Cid murmured then made his way over to a lawn chair that was parked out beside the garage. “Wanna tell me how ya met this Nyx fella?” He shot Cor another one of his calculating looks as he plopped down in his chair.

“Bar fight,” Cor answered truthfully, and smiled just a little when Cid released a bark of laughter. “He was trying to stop it.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Cid murmured then huffed. “Galahdian boy, right? That lot’s a little rough around the edges, called savages by most folk now-a-days. But rough suits you just fine.”

That earned Cid a chuckle. “It does.”

“He met Reggie yet?”

Cor made a face. “He has. And Clarus. They tricked him into going to Regis’ office in the Citadel.” He frowned a little more. “I was trying to hold off on them meeting him, but they figured it out.”

“Well,” Cid murmured as he leaned back in his chair. “You do radiate a particular aura about when you’ve met your match. Other matched’un’s can sometimes tell.” He peered past his umbrella as if checking the weather off the horizon. “So, when ya gettin’ married?” When Cor choked on air, Cid had the nerve to look offended. “What? He’s yer match. It's not like it’s any big secret what happens to matches after they meet.”

“We really haven’t spent all that much time together,” Cor managed to choke out after his sputtering subsided. “Who knows, he might not even like me-”

Cid raised his cane and Cor hopped out of the way rather than let the cane assault his kneecaps. “Ya damn ijit,” Cid huffed then cursed softly under his breath. “I ain’t never in my life seen a boy more damn determined there ain’t nothin’ out there for him… He’s standin’ right there in front of ya, Cor. What more do you want him to do? Paint a sign on his god damn forehead that reads ‘property of Cor Leonis’?” he growled. “No wonder I’m full o’ grey-hairs. Between you and Reggie I should be dead already.”

Cor felt childish, but he actually pouted, staring at Cid warily. “There’s not exactly a rule book for this, Cid.”

Cid threw his hands into the air. “A rule book! Hah! You’d follow that boy across the world if he asked you to, don’t you try and pull wool over my eyes,” he huffed. “Why the hell else are you out here? Reggie didn’t ask ya to come, you wouldn’t be here. So you must be out here ‘cause o’ him. Right?”

Feeling slightly petty, Cor didn’t answer and instead glanced towards the shop doors where Nyx was peeking around the corner. As soon as their eyes locked, Nyx grinned sheepishly, wiggled his fingers and dipped back into the shop. Cor immediately deflated. But he still refused to give a solid answer, and instead just grunted.

“Stubborn little shithead,” Cid grumbled, crossing his arms. “Ya got that from Reggie. Shoulda made ya come here to the shop after I left.”

“And turn me into a grease monkey like your granddaughter?” Cor shot back, one eyebrow arched. “No thanks.”

“Ya couldn’t fix a car if it showed you what spark plug was burned out,” Cid snarked, but then smiled at him. “Naw, you’re good where you are, boy. Just don’t let Reggie run ya into the ground. How is the old coot anyhow?”

Cor snorted, waiting patiently for Nyx to peek back out around the door again to see if the cost was clear. “You should call him. I’m more than a little positive he misses you.” Brown hair and blue eyes peered around the door again and Cor motioned for Nyx to come over. The younger man zipped out of the shop at a steady jog.

“Phone works both ways, Cor. If he really missed me, he’d figure it out.”

Cor watched as Nyx paused to put a bag away in the car, watching as he leaned through the door into the back seat. “Normally,” he murmured. “I would agree. But Nyx told me something after Galahd was taken by the Empire. His little sister was there, and his biggest regret is not trying to stay in contact with her more…” He glanced at Cid who was looking away, eyes hidden by the brim of his trucker cap. “He told me ‘you always think you have time’. Think about it.”

Cid grunted, but didn’t say anything to him as Nyx jogged over.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted,” Nyx murmured, frowning a little. “I was trying to give you time to talk, I’m kinda bad with judging-” he stopped when Cor reached out and tugged a braid gently, a light dusting of pink touching his cheeks before he grinned. “Ready to continue our drive across Eos?” he joked.

“Are you really taking me all the way across Eos? I probably should have warned Regis if that’s the case.”

Nyx frowned at him, then spat out a quick sentence that Cor didn’t understand. The words sounded vaguely like the Galahdian Nyx had been trying to teach him earlier that day, but didn’t match any of the words he’d heard the others speak.

Cid, however; seemed to understand every word Nyx had rambled off, stared at him wide-eyed for a moment then burst out laughing. “You keep him,” Cid laughed and then waved them off. “Go on, have your fun.”

Getting back out onto the road didn’t take long, Nyx hopping back into the driver’s seat after bidding Cid and Cindy farewell. “I liked him,” he said after they were a little ways down the road, his voice thoughtful. “I kinda heard what you were saying about him and the King. I wasn’t trying to, I was just checking to see if you were done and heard,” he grumbled but smiled anyway. “I figured maybe he was bitter about something, but he’s really nice.”

Cor smiled faintly. “Yeah, that’s Cid. He’s already forgiven Regis. Did a long time ago, they just haven’t realized it yet.” He glanced out the window, watching the world slide by for a moment before he frowned. “What did you say? That Cid l  
aughed about.”

Nyx blinked, but kept his eyes on the road. “Oh, um. I may have called the King a ‘rotten, useless corpse of a man slung in Voretooth shit’... don’t be mad.”

Cor stared at him because that was honestly the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard fall out of Nyx’s mouth and started laughing. 

“It isn’t like we - Galahdians, all of us - hate him. We are just… Angry?” Nyx frowned a little. “We shouldn’t be angry, it wasn’t his fault the Empire attacked us. Galahd’s been mouthing off to the Emperor for years now, it was just a matter of time.”

“But Galahd expected some protection from the rest of Lucis, instead it got nothing and now the refugees are treated horribly.”

Nyx didn’t look at him, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth instead. “I suppose… but from what I’ve heard survivors say… It happened so fast even the warriors back home had trouble mounting a counter attack. The Imperials came in with one thing on their mind, mass murder, and that’s what they did.”

Cor shifted in his seat, sitting up a little more so he could stare at Nyx. “Nyx.” When Nyx slowed the car to a halt at a stop sign, he glanced at Cor. “I hope that sometime within our lifetime, you get to go back,” he told him honestly. He could see an emotion playing behind Nyx’s eyes, but couldn’t put his finger on what it was. “And hopefully they won’t mind me coming along, because I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Nyx laughed. It was a little watery around the edges, but it stayed a laugh. “If they tried to kick you out,” Nyx informed him, giving him a toothy grin. “I’d either have to leave or take over.”

Cor chuckled as he leaned back in the seat once more, relaxing into the cushion. The hum of the motor as Nyx continued down the road was starting to get to him as they passed under the barrier that lead into Duscae. He hadn’t closed his eyes for long, he thought. Maybe just a few minutes, but then he felt the car turn off the road and onto a dirt path. Blinking, he opened his eyes and stared out at the wooden building that came into view. The sun was already setting, painting the sky yellow, orange then fading to dusky pink then finally purple at the edges. The lights were coming on as Nyx parked the car, yawning and stretching.

“Wasn’t expecting to spend the night, but whatever,” he grumbled. “There’s an RV here we can rent for the night.”

Cor nodded, but wasn’t really paying attention, staring out across the wide pasture where several large, yellow birds kwehed and warked at one another.

He’d climbed on top of the RV after Nyx had rented it, letting him take a shower as he stared out across the open plain. The birds were all asleep at this point, but Cor had this weird idea running through his head that one of the birds was going to mistake him for a rival and attack him.

Or think Nyx was it’s chick because he was small and adorable like that.

The water had shut off a few minutes ago, but Cor still hesitated in case Nyx was getting dressed. When it finally fell silent inside the camper, he hopped down and peeked inside the door. To the right was a small - very small - sitting area with a little table. There was overhead storage and what looked like another bed stuffed up close to the roof that could possibly fit two people if they really liked to cuddle. Across from the door was a sofa with two tables inset to it followed by a small door that lead to a shower. Directly to his left, the tiniest kitchen he’d ever seen. It was literally a sink that had a board over it to give you more counter space and a stove. A tiny fridge and then what he assumed was a pantry. Past that was a doorway covered only by a sheet that had been pulled back to reveal a bed. This bed was larger, taking up most of the back of the camper. The bed was also occupied, because Cor could see one of Nyx’s legs poking out from under the sheets.

Snorting to himself, he moved inside and stripped down to his boxers and shirt, not really having much else to wear. Which seemed to be what Nyx had done. No sooner had he crawled into the bed than Nyx, a literal cat in human skin, snuggled up closer to him, mumbling something about gas stations and UFOs.

Heaving a sigh and relinquishing himself to the inbound cuddle, Cor let his mind float over his conversation with Cid. He honestly had known for a while now that he’d follow Nyx where ever he went, even if he wasn’t really welcome there. Which was why it was so easy to said he’d follow him to Galahd. The hard part was believing Nyx would do the same for him.

Which was silly, but Cor couldn’t help the tickle of self-doubt.

The top of Nyx’s head tapped the underside of his chin as the younger man cuddled into him, his nose buried into Cor’s chest just at his throat. Chuckling softly and carefully winding his arms around Nyx, Cor let his mind drift away from his self-doubt and worry.

He’d follow Nyx where ever he lead him. If nothing else, at least it was an adventure he didn’t mind having.


	8. Chapter 8

# Side Quest Unlocked: [Cor]

# Chapter 8

It had been quiet all day, so Cor reckoned it would be time for the shit to hit the fan when he wandered into his office some time after lunch. It had, and he had been vaguely awed by the fact that Regis Lucis Caelum, King of Lucis and the Crown City of Insomnia, could look so imposing sitting in his office with his fingers steepled together before his face, and his brows pulled down in an obvious frown. The sun was even glittering through the window behind Cor’s desk, casting this odd ray of light around the chair, similar to a halo.

“Can you explain,” the King started, not even bothering with pleasantries. “Why is it a report made it to Clarus’ desk this morning, then to mine about an incident at your apartment building involving a young Galahadian male that sounded resoundingly like Nyx and emergency personnel being called to your apartment, only to find it empty?”

Cor blinked slowly. “Emergency personnel?” he murmured then frowned. What the hell had Nyx told the lady at the front desk?

“Yes, there was quite a bit of panic this morning until someone reported seeing you come in for work. I also had to call off a _raid_ of a certain bar so your boyfriend wouldn’t get arrested for… whatever he did.”

Oh. Yeah that could have been bad. Nyx had already been touchy about the woman just assuming he was there to steal stuff and make off like a bandit, being cornered by the Crownsguard and then arrested would have probably been the shitty icing on the shit cake. 

“He was upset,” Cor murmured slowly, watching the King’s eyebrow slowly arch upwards. “We went to my apartment and the receptionist in the lobby didn’t say anything to me, but immediately pinned Nyx as someone who wasn’t supposed to be there.” He shrugged helplessly. “We had a rough morning, he was already a little on edge.”

The King scoffed. “Rough morning? Please.”

“We saw a Zu eat a Behemoth that was attempting to sniff us out?”

Regis, in all his Kingly glory, shut up.

“So he came up with the idea of messing with her since she thought he was casing the place to steal stuff. There was no harm, he just carried out a bag and my sword. I’m not sure what he might have _said_ , but he was still pretty angry about it.” Cor scratched his neck, wondering if he should call Nyx now and make him apologize to Regis, or laugh about it because Regis having to deal with that kind of chaos was perfectly fine with him.

“So she assumed he was there to cause trouble simply because she’d never seen him before?” Regis asked with a sigh. “That seems harmless enough.”

Cor actually _flinched_. “We walked in together, Regis. It was kinda obvious he was there with me, and as many people as I’ve seen come through that building, that was the first time she stopped someone…” he frowned now that he thought about it. He’d been in the lobby once and watched someone that didn’t even have keycard access to the elevator take the stairs to the roof. “The way she spoke to him too, was rather like she wouldn’t believe a word that fell out of his mouth.”

Regis was frowning at him. “And you think it’s because he’s Galahdian?”

“He thinks so,” Cor corrected. “I would like to think this city is better than judging people by where they come from, but I’ve also walked with him out of the Galahdian Quarter and _heard_ him be called leeching scum. He just smiles and walks on, Regis. It just got to him this time.”

Regis sighed heavily, turning slightly in the chair to look out the window behind him. “Sometimes I wonder Cor, what happened to this city to make it so _broken_. We all came from Lucis, it’s not as if Insomnia is a nation of its own.”

“The people think it is,” Cor murmured. “The Galahdian’s are banking on the fact that as part of the Kingsglaive they’ll be able to take back Galahd from the Imperials.”

The King turned back to look at him. “Galahd might not be worth saving.”

“They know. But it’s home for them.”

Regis was staring at him, his green eyes roving over Cor’s face, searching for something. “And if Nyx went to Galahd?”

He didn’t want to think about it, honestly. In Galahd there was a chance they’d try to force the two of them apart and he had seen a bitterness growing in Nyx that concerned him enough to think it _might_ be possible if they sat down and talked to him enough about it. But he’d also seen the part of Nyx that wanted to change Galahd for the better.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. Because he didn’t.

Regis frowned then sighed, letting the matter go only to slide into another problem Cor was having to face. “Is he joining the Kingsglaives with the others then?”

Cor went still, carefully judging his expression. He was fine with Nyx joining the Glaives, it was more the thought of the danger the man could be putting himself into that bothered him. But, it also meant Nyx would learn more defense for himself as well as have more at his disposal than what he had now. A battle-ready Nyx could have helped him take down that Behemoth before the Zu had shown up and they’d had to run. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for that either though.

“He and Libertus were discussing it,” he murmured after a few minutes of silence. “I’m not sure what they decided to do yet. I suppose I’ll learn tonight.”

The King snorted. “Are you okay with it?”

Cor stared at him and frowned. “It’s not for me to decide for him. He’s a grown man, he can decide what he wants to do.” His shoulders slumped a little under Regis’ stare. “Of course I’m not. He’s probably not _okay_ with me being gone for months at a time to run errands for you either, but that’s who I am. I was that before I ever found him.” He frowned when Regis gave him a little smile. “Just don’t treat him any differently than the rest. Give him just as much of a hard time as the others. Don’t treat him special just because of who he is to me. He’d hate you and me both for it.”

Regis chuckled and stood up. “Deal.”

Moving around the desk and taking his now vacated seat, Cor watched as the King meandered around his office for a moment, not seemingly all that interested in leaving just yet. He probably had work he didn’t want to finish, so Cor indulged him. “We went to see Cid the other day.”

The King’s back went ramrod straight. “Oh? How did that go?”

“He liked him.”

“That’s good…” He trailed off, acting as if he were staring up at a bookshelf. “How is the old coot?”

“You should call,” Cor murmured, pretending to read one of the papers on his desk while following Regis from the corner of his eye. “Just to say hello.”

Regis snorted. “He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

Cor, for his part, frowned at Regis. “You two are going to go to your graves thinking you hated each other.” Sitting back in his chair, he folded his arms over his chest. “Cid’s not getting any younger, Regis.”

The King laughed, though it wasn’t a happy sound, Cor thought as the man wandered over to the door. “Cor,” he murmured as he touched the doorknob, glancing back at him from over his shoulder to give him a little grin. “Knowing Cid, he’ll outlive me by many a year. Don’t worry too much about my petty squabbles.” He left after that, not willing to let Cor continue.

* * *

Cor pressed his fingers into his eyes, breathing in slow. Why was today not his day? Why was it everyone was just driving him near insane? When he looked up, Clarus was still standing there. He narrowed his eyes but kept the ugly words from falling out of his mouth.

“You’ll have a group of Glaives with you,” Clarus was telling him, detailing a mission Cor very much did not want to go on. He really wanted to go home, sit down and drag Nyx into his lap and then bury his face against his shoulder and pass out. But no, now he had to go to Ravatogh. Whoever Drauntos had sent out to take down the base had not returned. They weren’t sure if that meant they’d been captured or killed, or just hadn’t made it back from the mission, but Cor was being tasked with following up, and undertaking the destruction of the base if it was still standing.

“Why is Drautos not doing this?” Cor grumbled, glaring over his hands at Clarus who gave him a sympathetic look.

“They have new recruits being picked tomorrow afternoon,” Clarus informed him. “They have a pool of applicants they’ve gathered over the last few weeks they want to test.”

Cor sighed. At least Nyx and Libertus wouldn’t be part of that recruitment. By the time he made a round trip on the continent they’d likely be getting ready to do another session with recruits. The two had only started talking about joining recently anyway, and probably hadn’t fully made up their minds.

“And,” Clarus continued. “Regis knows you’ll get the job done and trusts you to come back since whoever Drautos sent hasn’t reported in.”

His shoulders sagged a little. “One of these days I’m going to start doing my missions badly so you stop making me do this,” he grumbled.

Clarus chuckled, earning him a glare. “I know you won’t.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “If only because you not doing your missions correctly means you might die. Last time I checked, you had something new to fight to keep.”

Cor made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat because Clarus was right, but he wasn’t going to admit it to the man’s face. “What time are we leaving,” he grouched, glaring.

“Three hours before sunrise. Be ready.” And then he left, closing his door behind him.

Leaning back in his chair, Cor stared at the ceiling. The sun had already set, he could probably catch a few hours of sleep before he had to wake up, which meant he was sleeping on the couch in his office _again_.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Cor stared at the back-lit screen, wondering if he should call or text Nyx about this new development. The bar would be open now, and likely busy. He could wait until in the morning after he and his group got on the road. He’d text him and apologize. Make it up to him later.

With a sigh, Cor walked over to his couch, pulling a blanket out from behind it to toss over his shoulders. Sleeping, he realized as he laid down on the worn leather, was going to be difficult. That was the one bad thing he’d found about Nyx Ulric. That’d he’s become so tangled up in his life he was starting to _need_ him in it. 

He tried to imagine the warm presence of Nyx pushed up against his back but it only made the cold space there colder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...  
>  _Oops~_


	9. Chapter 9

# Side Quest Unlocked: [Cor]

# Chapter 9

“He,” Pelna said as Cor pocketed his phone. “Called you a steaming pile of Kujata shit used to fertilize a Mandrake.”

“How loving,” Cor mumbled, and almost laughed.

Pelna snorted. “Are you kidding? You realize being yelled at like that is practically a marriage proposal right?” When Cor stared at him, Pelna laughed. “I’m glad to see you two getting along. Crowe won’t shut up about Libertus. I’m honestly glad she’s not on this mission with us, I don’t think I could stand the two of you talking about your favorite bartenders in the whole of Lucis.” He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat in the van they were traveling in. He’d called shotgun as soon as he’d found out Cor was driving. The rest had piled into the back. 

Luche Lazarus and Tredd Furia were there along with two other Glaives newer to the ranks. Luca and Tobul. They were quiet, sitting in the seats directly behind Cor and Pelna while Luche and Tredd took the back seat.

Cor hadn’t been happy when he’d seen those two, but they’d spent their time in jail and from what Drautos had told him, they knew to behave. He wasn’t so sure about that, but didn’t say anything. The two had kept quiet so far, not saying a word. Of course that didn’t mean anything when Cor wanted badly to punch Tredd in the jaw simply over the memory of Nyx dropping after lightning had weaved its way under his skin.

“I fail,” Cor grumbled, turning his eyes back to the road. “To see how that can be seen as a proposal.”

“Means he cares,” Pelna pointed out. “It’s not like we go around cursing everyone we know out. We save the good ones for those we really care about. He coulda called you a dickhead or a piece of shit, but he went for a nice, long, detailed one. Means he put some thought into it.”

Cor chewed on that for a bit and snorted. If that was a ‘proposal’ someone had definitely not told Nyx about it, otherwise he wouldn’t have done it. “If you say so.”

Pelna snorted and looked behind his seat. “Tell him Tobi,” the man grouched to the young recruit who looked up curiously.

Tobul - Pelna refused to call him anything but Tobi - was a nice kid as far as Cor could tell. He was young, not even twenty-three yet, dark skinned with his hair in dreads and pulled back. The braids in his hair were lost amongst the dreads, but now and then Cor caught sight of the beads in them. The boy smiled when addressed by Pelna, then laughed.

“It is rather common, yes,” he murmured, his accent thick. From what Cor had understood when he was being debriefed, the two new recruits - Tobul and Luca - were both refugees from Galahd that had been found when the rescue teams had ventured inside the burned out husk of the villages. Luca was small, thin and had a way with magic. Her brown hair was kept pulled back and she was what Drautos had described as the ‘healer’ of their group.

As far as Cor had been able to tell the two weren’t matches, but after living through the fires and terrors of Galahd, they were inseparable. Where one went, the other followed. He envied them in that, he supposed, wondering what it would be like if Nyx was here then shook the thought away. He’d worry about him, and Nyx would probably worry about him because the man didn’t know the meaning of ‘don’t fret”.

“Galahdian’s are weird,” he grumbled, earning a soft laugh from all three.

Their ride from Leide to Duscae took a greater part of two days and the sun was setting when they reached the checkpoint on the second. They found it empty, the guards gone and the doors closed. Investigating further they discovered why. A small base was set up on the other side of the Duscae border, armed with the bare minimum of MTs and Magitek Armor it didn’t pose much of a threat _now_ but at some point in time there had been enough Imperials to take out the checkpoint. Why it had never been radioed in was beyond him.

“They are getting too close,” Cor growled softly, glancing at his group. “We take them out now, we’ll camp inside the checkpoint after they are taken care of. Aim for the Armor first, it will cause the most problems.”

The group nodded and then they were gone.

* * *

Cor pulled his sword from the armor’s engine and beat a hasty retreat out of the blasting range as it exploded. Smoke boiled into the air and he watched as Pelna, Tredd and Luche finished off the last of the MTs. Letting the fire burn and take down the makeshift buildings, Cor and the rest made their way back to the Checkpoint.

“Did you find anything?” he asked Luca once they’d started setting up camp.

She was shaking her head. “Nothing new that we didn’t already know. Blueprints for some of the tech they are using. From what I read, it seems that base and the checkpoint were being held for at least the last two days. There are hints that the checkpoint from Duscae to Cleigne might be occupied as well.

Cor frowned. “I suppose that makes sense. We’ll take care of it once we reach there.”

“Best keep a lookout for more bases as well,” Luche stated as he walked over to join them at the table. “If they managed to get this far without us fucking knowing about it, they probably have bases scattered.” He frowned then released a small snarl. “How’d they get this far? Why didn’t anyone say anything.”

Cor agreed, but didn’t have an answer for the other man.

Morning came too early, the rays of sunlight piercing past the horizon as they woke and gathered their gear. They left within the hour and continued their journey. They paused at a reststop within Duscae to ask about Imperial sightings. What they were told was worrisome and Cor found himself having to make a decision.

“It’s going to draw out our originally planned mission time,” he informed the group who didn’t look all that happy. He couldn’t tell if it was because of the MTs or the news they were going to be gone for longer. “But if we comb through the area and destroy the bases, we’ll push them back into Cleigne.”

The others nodded in quiet agreement and went to collect their gear.

* * *

It took a 2 weeks to sweep the entirety of Duscae carefully. They found the base closer to the end of the second week, more manned than the first one and a bit more structured. It was hidden out in the middle of the landscape, covered by trees and brush, but they found it. Taking it down had been a chor, and they’d nearly lost Tredd when a Shock Trooper decided to latch onto the man and start ticking down it’s timer before it detonated. Cor had practically ripped the thing off of him and shoved him around the side of a large metal container to hide them from the blast.

After that, Tredd had stopped sneering at him every time he saw him. He even approached Cor at camp the next morning. “I wanted to apologize,” he murmured, not really looking at Cor but not truly hiding.

“For what?” Cor had been confused. Tredd Furia was an asshole, but he hadn’t done anything this entire trip to make him angry. The sneering hadn’t bothered Cor, at least he knew the other man would watch his back if need be.

Tredd had shuffled his feet around. “Back at the bar, months ago,” he offered. “I tried to punch you. Sorry about that.”

Cor huffed, watching Tredd. He could accept the apology, but Nyx was the one he truly needed to apologize to. Cor wasn’t about to tell him that he’d shocked the hell out of his mate, no one except Pelna even knew about Nyx. He planned on keeping it that way. “Don’t worry about it, Tredd. That’s was nearly half a year ago.” It had been, Cor realized as he thought. By the time they got back to Insomnia after this shit show, it’d been coming up on seven months since he’d met Nyx.

Where had the fucking time gone?

“Camp for tonight, we'll make our way to Cleigne in the morning,” Cor murmured and was met with agreement from the others.

After they had bedded down, Cor wandered off to the side of the Haven they were staying on, sitting just within the runes as he stared out across the open landscape of Duscae. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he opened the texting thread he and Nyx had going for the past week and paused as he stared at it. He’d been texting Nyx, giving him little updates on where they were, what they were doing. Nyx usually responded within the hour so he’d always assumed he was busy with the bar, so Cor wondered if he should bother…

He pressed the ‘call’ icon before he could change his mind and held the phone to his ear. It rang a few times before a sleepy sounding _‘hello?’_ answered on the other side. Cor immediately frowned.

“Nyx?” He heard some quiet grumbling on the other side of the phone followed by a _‘huh, oh shit’_ and frowned more. Nyx was normally working the bar at this time, unless they’d closed today, which was possible. “Did I wake you?”

 _“It’s okay! I was takin’ a nap.”_ Nyx’s usual chipper tone was back in place, though Cor could hear something under it. Exhaustion? Cor kind of understood that part of it. He’d been sleeping like shit over the past week.

Glancing over his shoulder towards the campsite, Cor snorted. “Having trouble sleeping too?” He paused for a moment, if only because he realized he was _teasing_ Nyx about it.

A snort came over the phone. _”Fuck off. It’s not my fault you’re all the way in… are you still in Duscae?”_

He confirmed with a low hum, turning his gaze back out across the clearing. “We finished another rogue base up a few hours ago. We’re heading towards Cleigne in the morning.”

_”You should get some sleep, you idiot.”_

A smile pulled at the corner of Cor’s mouth. He knew he was tired, because the next words that fell out of his mouth surprised even him. “Sorry, wanted to hear your voice.”

Silence stretched out between them, and Cor felt a knot slowly growing in his stomach. He twitched uncomfortably and debated on apologizing for the comment when Nyx breathed out a low, stuttery sigh into the phone.

_”I miss you too.”_

The tension in the back of Cor’s neck disappeared, melted really. He closed his eyes and let those words soak into his brain. “Go back to sleep Nyx. I’ll be home soon.”

 _”You’d better,”_ the younger man grumbled. _”I love Lib, I do. But he and Crowe are insufferable and I’d really like to punch him in the face,”_ Nyx grouched then sighed. _”Be safe, Cor.”_

“Of course.”

* * *

“Tell Regis he’s going to have to send out patrols or something,” Cor murmured into his phone as he stared at the group of MTs further ahead at the Cleigne checkpoint. “They took over all three checkpoints without us knowing a gods damned thing. We can’t keep letting this slide, Clarus.”

Over the phone, Clarus made a disgusted sound. _”They have to be jamming signals when they do it.”_ It didn’t matter how they were doing it though. The point was they’d gotten into Leide without anyone knowing inside Insomnia. They weren’t attacking the capital, but it was a warning. They could get there with no problem because the King had relaxed his hold too much.

“This is how we lost fucking Galahd,” Cor hissed softly into his phone. “We stopped god damn checking. They’ve been running this operation for a while now, we can’t let them anymore.”

 _”Dismantle it and come home,”_ Clarus ordered. _”Drautos should be meeting up with you at the checkpoint or just past it. He’s already handled the other base in Ravatogh. Searche for any others, and please be careful. It’s likely this one is fortified. They knew we’d send someone eventually.”_.

Cor resisted the urge to tell Clarus ‘no shit’ and hung up with the Shield instead. The checkpoint wasn’t _heavily_ guarded, though it was more manned than the others had been. Whatever lay beyond that was unknown, but Cor had a feeling there was another base set up before the one that was at Ravatogh.

The others were in place, waiting for his signal. He gave it, by releasing a low whistle that sounded like a bird call. The Glaives struck fast, warping into the space of the checkpoint and attacking anything that started moving.

* * *

Cor jerked his katana from an MTs corpse, watching the thing twitch as electricity sparked from its circuits. Over the comm in his ear he heard Luche start cursing and pressed his finger to it. “What’s wrong?”

Static greeted him before Tredd came over. “It’s a fucking Angelus-0.”

Cor took off down the street that passed through the checkpoint into Cleigne. “Where?” he asked as he dodged a shot and took out another soldier. The fucking thing exploded before he could completely remove his sword and he cursed as smoke boiled up into his face.

“Just outside the gate. _Fuck_!” Static fizzed in Cor’s ear and he hissed angrily. The Angelus was less common than the other MA-X suits he’d seen. A type 0 was completely new. He’d only heard of one other being deployed on the field and it had been before the ceasefire had been agreed upon. Clarus had downed it, but it had nearly killed the man in the process.

Reaching the gate at the otherside of the checkpoint, Cor tried to comm again only to get more static. Pelna, Luca and Tobul were supposed to be further down, having crossed the wall at a low point that wasn’t exactly guarded. He hoped they’d heard some of the transfers between himself, Luche and Tredd because if they came up on the Angelus unprepared…

He peered around the corner and found the god damn thing right there. Jerking backwards and behind the wall, he missed the blast to the face, but the heat of the missile shooting past sill singed his hair. With a snarl, he hurled himself around the checkpoint wall and attacked, going for the weak joints in the armors legs and arms. When the foot raised up, Cor jumped back out of the way, letting it stomp empty earth.

The armor made a high-pitched screeching sound before it fired off a missile again and Cor found himself dodging the damn things as they struck the ground near him. When they exploded, heat rushed past him, stinging his skin but not causing any other harm than covering him with soot. He hadn’t seen Luche or Tredd and hoped the two were alright. Hopefully Tredd had found Luche and pulled him out of the area. Now Cor just had to hold out until the other three showed up so they could retreat and regroup.

Static screeched in his ear and he ripped the comm piece out, throwing it away from himself as the thing hissed and fizzed. It was useless anyway. Tilting his sword, Cor shifted his posture and lunged for the Angelus’ leg again, hacking the blade into the joint again and twisting, hoping it would stagger. When it didn’t, he cursed and moved out of range for the sweep of its arm, moving up under it further. Exposed wires greeted him, hidden by piece of metal in one joint. Grinning, Cor jammed his hand into the joint and released ice magic, watching as the joint froze over. With it weakened, Cor hit it again, satisfied with the crunch that followed the sword strike.

Lightning crackled along the things armor and Cor found himself right in the fucking middle of it. Cursing, he turned to charge out because he was about to be dealt a few hundred-thousand volts of ‘fuck you’ and he didn’t think it would feel to great. 

“Time to go, Marshal!” A voice shouted and Cor tensioned when he felt a arm go around his waist. One look at the dark haired head beside him and he felt a growl leave his throat.

“Don’t you-”

Pelna warped across the battlefield with Cor as the lightning attack went off, zapping a wide radius that Cor had very much still been inside off. But Cor didn’t give two shits about that because warping was the _absolute_ worst thing he’d ever done. He came out of it cursing Pelna and digging the sheath of his sword into the ground to keep from falling over. Pelna just laughed and then was gone again, hurrying back into the fight. Off to the side, Tobul was standing near a rock, summoning fire to hurl at the thing. 

Shaking off the effects of the warp, Cor regained his footing and started towards the battle again only to stop because the hair was rising on the back of his neck. Something was wrong. He looked up just as the low hum of a dropship reached his ears. Cor waited, wondering if it was another fucking Angeuls, but it wasn’t.

It was way fucking worse.

The armored suit that landed in front of him rose slowly, the light from explosions, magic and fire glinting off the liquid metal. “Marshal,” the distorted voice greeted. “How good to see you.”

Cor attacked because General Glauca wasn’t someone to mess around with. He’d seen entire battles end because that man had entered the field. He struck fast and hard, trying to take out a chunk of that thick armor, to find a place where it bent to allow movement so he could take advantage of it. His sword bounced off it, vibrating harshly until his arms went numb as his fingers hurt. He cursed and tried using magic. Lightning glazed off the metal, ice cracked under the pressure, and fire just licked at his feet like he was wet wood. Snarling, he used his sword again, and almost sighed in relief when part of the metal chipped off, exposing a shoulder underneath the metal. Then he watched as the metal stitched itself together, closing back over the exposed human body and reforming.

“Didn’t know it could do that, hm?” The sneer that colored Glauca’s voice was infuriating. Cor turned on him, aiming his sword for his head only for the General to propel himself into the air and out of immediate reach. He drew his sword from his back, the wide blade glowing red against the darkening sky. “I’ll send you back to your King in pieces, Immortal,” he laughed, and then drove himself downwards, creating a shockwave with the blade when he landed.

Lunging forward, Cor attacked again, placing precice hits that seemed to do nothing. His blade glanced off the armor, or where it did cause damage it just fixed itself. Glauca didn’t even bother to try and block his attacks, letting the armor mend itself as he stepped forward with each strike. Then he raised his sword and brought it down on Cor’s head. Cor blocked it, just barely and strained under the weight of it, placing his palm along the dull edge of his sword to hold it in place until he could tilt his sword enough to slide away, dodging out of range of another strike.

Glauca’s sword hit the ground, cutting into the earth like a knife would butter. Past him, the Angelus fell on its side and detonated, erupting in a plume of smoke, fire and explosives.

“Ah,” Glauca murmured, his voice sounded odd behind the distortion. “My new toy. I just got that.”

“Shame,” Cor snarled. “I feel so bad.” He lunged forward, sword raised to strike and came to a sudden stop.

Glauca’s fingers curled around the blade, and Cor watched as he twisted his wrist, felt the hilt turn in his hands before it came free. The General moved fast, using the hilt of the katana to strike Cor in the chest and send him rolling backwards. He landed on his side with a hiss, a sharp pain snarling its way down his shoulder and into his arm and back.

The General took a step towards him, his katana still in his hand when a white coat obscured his vision. Luca raised her hand, a blue shield forming a bubble around them while her other reached back, the ground under them lighting up green. The angry pain that had been steadily crawling through Cor’s bones started to disappear, but before them Glauca just laughed.

“Truly pathetic.”

The shield should have stopped the blade. Maybe it was because Luca’s attention was divided between two magics, Cor would never be sure, but the blade - _his blade_ \- struck the shield like a battering ram. The blue hexagons turned red and shattered. The sword kept going, slicing through Luca’s palm, across her wrist, into her shoulder and then straight through her. She stared up at Glauca, never made a sound as the magic bled away, and then she dropped to her side.

Cor stared at the sword, because the blade was _his_ and her blood was on it, and he felt something like rage bubbling in his gut.

A sound of what could only have been rage struck Cor’s ears then, and he scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pain that still bit at his bones as Tobul lunged from out of the corner of his vision. The man latched himself onto Glauca’s back, arms wrapped around the armored neck, wrenching his head backwards. Glauca’s laughter just continued even as Tobul’s eyes turned white and lightning, ice, and fire struck at once.

Cor’s sword clattered to the ground, the magic damaging the liquid armor faster than it could mend itself. The General snarled, ripped Tobul from his back and held him aloft by his throat, and squeezed. Cor lunged for his sword, grabbing the blade and sank it into the exposed thigh before the armor could seal shut. Glauca snarled angrily, tossing aside the limp Glaive and turned his attention back on Cor. His helmet had been damaged as well, but Cor only caught a glimpse of an enraged blue eye and a tuft of brown hair before the metal closed back around Glauca’s head. Jerking his hand, he tried to pull his sword back to him, but found the blade had been sealed within the armor. His efforts to free it were met with a metal fist landing against the side of his head, sending him rolling away.

He saw stars, his vision tunneling and then refocusing on Glauca as the General of the Imperial army marched towards him, his katana stitched into the fabric of his armor now. Cor regained his feet just as Glauca reached him, the ringing in his ears from the punch loud.

“I should make you suffer, Immortal. See how long you last,” the man buried within that suit of armor hissed. “I should make you bleed, let you heal then bleed you some more.” Cor dodged the second hit and used his foot to hit the hilt of his sword. He doubted he could dislodge it from the metal, but the blade had been biting into flesh, he was more than certain it would hurt. It did, if the snarl Glauca released was any indication.

Glauca grabbed the front of his jacket, dragging him forward and hauling him into the air. Before the third hit landed, Cor found himself wondering if Nyx would be okay. His next conscious memory was of laying on the ground, staring up at the liquid armor as General Glauca raised his sword.

Glittering, blue crystals filled his vision then as Glauca started the downswing. Cor felt the hands land on his shoulders, felt the pull of magic that rushed through him, and blacked out as his body broke down into crystalline dust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That probably answered like, two questions.  
> If it makes ya'll feel better, it hurt like a bitch for Glauca to get that sword out.
> 
> Also welcome to my horrible habit of introducing new characters to a series only to kill them off in the exact same chapter. :D
> 
> [[Twitter](https://twitter.com/FanfictionRei)]


	10. Chapter 10

# Side Quest Unlocked: [Cor]

# Chapter 10

Cor woke up in a lot of pain and a lot of swearing on his part. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move, it hurt to _exist_. But it meant he was alive, for how long he wasn’t sure. When he opened his eyes it was dark, and for a brief moment he thought he was blind. Glauca had given him a pretty nasty knock to the head. The jolt of panic receded when he realized he could just barely make out the lines of rock arched up high overhead. It seemed he was in a cave or something similar to one. He tried to move and regretted it instantly, hissing softly.

“Well good morning, sunshine. Finally back from your trip to ‘Fuck Pelna, Let’s Die’ land?” a voice asked off to his side. He wanted to turn to look, but thought better of it.

“You sound happy to see me,” Cor murmured, his voice coming out ragged and rough.

A snort followed his comment, followed by the shuffling of feet. “I just carried you on my back half way across Cleigne for two days. I deserve a medal, or a pat on the back,” the Glaive huffed, sounding exhausted. “You’re heavy, long, and your limbs are too god damn _dangly_.” More shuffling. “Think you can sit up?”

Cor attempted to move, but his brain quickly shut down the idea, sending off all kinds of warnings. “I don’t think so…”

Pelna cursed then shoved something into Cor’s face. It was wet, whatever it was. “Here, chew on it, don’t actually eat it. I can’t pour water down your throat without you choking on it. You’ve been out for two days, nearly three now.”

He had more questions, but the thing in his mouth had water in it and he chewed rather happily, letting the cool liquid soothe his throat. When he stopped getting water, he pushed it back out of his mouth. It felt like cloth, but he wasn’t sure. Pelna retrieved it when he was done. “Where are we?”

“A cave on the side of the volcano,” Pelna murmured. “When Glauca decided to try and split you in half with his sword, I warped in and pulled you out. You passed out when I did, small blessings I suppose. I had to keep warping us through the forest because fuckers kept dropping out of ships like roaches.”

Cor sighed and flinched slightly when his side reminded him that he was in pain. “How bad’s the damage?” he grumbled as he tried to map a mental route home. He needed to be mobile quickly if they were getting out of here soon.

Pelna made an unhappy sound in the back of his throat. “As far as I could tell, a few cracked ribs, possible concussion, and you _definitely_ have a broken clavicle. I could feel it when I was carrying you. That shit’s gross.”

Cor snorted and rolled his eyes. “I should be fine to move then.”

“I did say ‘possible concussion’, idiot,” Pelna snarked and frowned. “That’s not something you just get up and walk around with. My luck you’ll blackout when we’re in the middle of a fight.” He paused then hissed. “And you can’t fight because last I checked, your fucking sword was in Glacua’s leg.”

Cor made a pleased sound in the back of his throat, laying his head back. He really hoped the General had fun getting out of his armor. He’d either have to break it apart with the sword still in his leg, slice his leg to ribbons, or find a way to break the sword which would also cause a wonderful amount of pain for him. Cor’s final ‘fuck you very much’.

“I guess that means we’ll be sneaking out then?”

“You had better be glad I like you,” Pelna sniffed and shifted around, doing something that allowed light into the small cave they were in. Cor squinted and tried to remind himself that he couldn’t have a concussion right now because that meant it would take him longer to get home.

And he very much wanted to get home.

“Have you tried calling?” Cor asked, knowing it was a long shot but trying anyway.

Pelna sighed. “Yeah. Everything is blocked and they picked up the signal the first time I tried. Have you ever tried destroying a phone and warping with a dead weight on your back?” He moved so he fell into Cor’s line of sight, eyes narrowed. “It’s not fun.” Cor gave him his best sheepish grin. “Anyway, I found your phone, it was already off, but we still have it. If we can get far enough away from whatever they are using tho jam and track signals, we can use it.”

He had turned it off, he remembered that much. Both to save the battery and to keep it from picking up any signals once they crossed the checkpoint. Thinking about that reminded him of Nyx and he wondered if the poor man had worried himself to death yet since Cor had texted him nearly every day only to just abruptly stop.

“Not sure what happened to Tredd and Luche,” Pelna was saying. “I didn’t see them.”

“The Angelus hit Luche,” Cor murmured. “Tredd was going in to help him, so they probably had to fall behind cover.” Taking a deep breath, Cor tested his lung capacity and grunted when he found his limit. Moving his legs and toes didn’t seem to be a problem. It was the waist up that was giving him grief. Bracing himself, Cor tried to sit up right, ignoring the wave of nausea that flooded his senses and made him sway.

“Concussion,” Pelna sighed and then Cor felt him helping him sit up. “Are you always this stubborn or just after almost being killed?”

“Well, does it count if I’m always almost being killed?”

Pelna snorted. “Ass. What does Nyx see in you?”

“If he tells you, let me know.”

* * *

“I don’t think I’ve ever thrown up before,” Cor murmured staring at the cave floor for a moment while Pelna shuffled around behind him.

“Congratulations, add it to your resume.”

Cor snorted, but didn’t say anything else, glancing at the sling Pelna had crafted out of a vine and strips of cloth. He couldn't move his arm. Well, he _could_ , it just hurt like hell. At least it had been his left side. The whole concussion thing still sucked though because he’d finally managed to gain his feet, lost his balance afterwards and then had vomited because that felt nice.

“I’m going scouting,” Pelna told him after a moment. “Try not to blackout or fall or do something stupid.” He paused, peering out of the cave entrance. “Hopefully I can find us a clear path through. If we can get close to Greyshire the road crosses the river there.”

“Will roads be safe?” Cor grumbled as he propped himself up against the cave wall. “They’ll be looking for us.”

Pelna shrugged. “That’s why I’m going looking. I’m _hoping_ since it’s been nearly three days at this point they’ll have left off… maybe they think we’ve already gotten far enough away or you died from injuries. We don’t have to cross at the checkpoint, but there’s a river all the way from Malmalam Thicket to Greyshire, it breaks in two further down and its wide… I don’t think it’d be wise to try and cross there. But closer to Greyshire it’s narrow. We should be able to make it across without too much trouble, and it’s close to a road and a rest stop.”

Watching Pelna, Cor frowned. “The Empire might not believe we’re dead, but Insomnia probably does. Especially if Luche and Tredd make it back before us.”

Pelna flipped the hood of his jacket up, peering at him from under the metalwork across the front of it. “Nah,” he laughed. “They’d know if you died. Especially if Nyx is nearby.” When Cor only gave him an odd look, Pelna paled a little. “Wait, you mean you guys haven’t like… looked into any of this shit?” When all he got was a head tilt and a curious look, he cursed. “Gods preserve me. Cor, you fucking idiot, he’s the other half of your fucking _soul_. What do you think happens if you die?”

To be honest, he wasn’t sure, and when he said as much, Pelna looked at the ceiling of their cave.

“Depends on how close you are, but most times, the other feels how their mate goes out. Those that are really close, usually die together. If not from the feeling, then afterwards by their own hand.”

Cor stared, because a million things were going through his head at that moment, the main one being what would have happened to Nyx if Glauca had sliced him in half with his sword like he had Luca. “Shit.”

“Exactly. I’m not sure how close you two are, but I’m pretty sure Nyx would have like, dropped dead in the middle of the street or something.” Cor saw a flash of teeth under the hood of Pelna’s jacket. “Gives ya a reason to stay alive. Alright! I’ll be back in a bit, hopefully.”

Then he was gone, and Cor didn’t like it because now he had shit to actually think about. Like all those times he’d come close to dying and hadn’t. It had never really bothered him, he hadn’t had someone else to worry about him or expect him to come home. But now he did, and him being reckless also put them in danger.

He was beginning to think the Astrals had a really fucked up sense of humor.

* * *

Pelna returned an hour later, huffing but in good spirits if his smile was any indication as he pulled the hood off his head. “Traveling at night is probably the worst idea ever,” he told Cor. “Imperials think so too, so guess what we’re doing?”

“This sounds like it’s going to get us killed.”

“Only if a Havocfang decies its hungry and wants a midnight snack. We’re low enough on Ravatogh that Saberclaws won’t be a problem at least.

At least this time when Cor stood up he wasn’t dizzy or nauseous. He counted his blessings and followed Pelna carefully out of the cave. The path leading downwards wasn’t so bad, a little steep in places, but Cor felt like he could handle that with at least some grace. It was going to suck, but he’d do it if it meant getting home.

The sun was setting but they had light still, if only a little. It was enough to see the trail and start making their way. Pelna kept close just in case, but when Cor made it abundantly clear he was alright for now, the man darted off a short ways ahead to keep an eye out for any danger.

Traveling was agonizingly slow, and Cor couldn’t move faster than a slightly brisk walk because otherwise his arm wanted to move and his ribs quickly reminded him that they had been aggressively abused. They reached the treeline as the final rays of light left the sky. Part of Cor wanted to continue moving, but Pelna disagreed.

“It’s too dark in the forest,” Pelna argued. “We’ll get turned around and lost and we can’t use lights. We’ll start moving again at Dusk, let the sun come up a bit and then see how far we’ve gotten…. If the skies stay clear and we don’t see any Imperials, I’ll scout further ahead and see if we can get to the river without any trouble.”

Cor wanted to argue, but looking out into the forest now, barely able to see the limbs hanging low, he understood Pelna’s side. Sighing, he agreed and the two of them searched out a hiding spot for the remainder of the night. It came in the form of a bush that had probably been the nest of some creature during the winter. It was a bit cramped, but the two of them made due, sitting shoulder to shoulder.

“I’ll take first watch, get some more sleep in.” When Cor actually did argue that he’d already been sleeping, Pelna cut him off. “I’m not the one that got slapped around by the General,” he pointed out. “You’re body is healing itself and healing takes time and energy. I hit stasis the first night, and regained my energy the second. I know my limits, which is why I’m not warping us half way across Cleigne no matter how much I want to. So sleep.”

With a sigh, Cor leaned his head back and closed his eyes, doubting he’d sleep at all with everything going on around him, but it was worth a try.

He gave up a few minutes later and opened his eyes, intending to tell Pelna to sleep instead and he’d keep watch, only he wasn’t stuffed inside a bush in the middle of Cleigne with Imperials looking for him. He was in a bed, staring up at a white ceiling. A ceiling he _recognized_.

Something moved beside him and his heart was in his throat because brown hair tickled his chin. When he turned his head slightly, blue eyes stared back up at him, ringed in dark and looking beyond tired.

“Nyx?”

“Man,” Nyx mumbled, sounding as exhausted as he looked. “You look like shit.”

Cor snorted. “You’re one to talk.” He was greeted with a crooked smile that quickly melted away because he heard something move and when he turned his head to look it pulled at his shoulder and he woke with a hiss.

Darkness flooded his vision instead of the lightness of the room he’d been in, along with the prick of leaves against his skin and the angry reminder that he had cracked and broken bones that needed to be tended to at some point in the near future.

Pelna was also gone, no longer pressed against his shoulder and Cor wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep.

Moving carefully, he poked his head from the brush and found Pelna standing just beside the tree, peering out from under the cover. When he noticed Cor, he held up his hand and looked back out again. In the distance, Cor could hear the low rumble of an airship and froze where he was, waiting.

It hovered for a little while before turning and continuing to fly along the trees. Pelna backed up a step, hiding back under the canopy and they both waited until the hum of the engine became a distant sound. 

“We should get moving,” Pelna murmured and for the first time Cor noticed the fingers of light edging over the horizon. He’d slept through the night it seemed. Frowning, he turned an accusing look on the other man who grinned a little. “Not my fault,” he stated quickly. “I started to wake you up and you mumbled Nyx’s name. I would feel guilty if I woke anyone else dreaming about their mate.”

Cor snorted, but mumbled a thank you anyway, following the Glaive as he started walking through the forest.

“I scouted further ahead while you were asleep,” he murmured as he moved around a bolder. “The road is blocked up, which I figured, but we can pretty much skirt around them if we stick to the trees, and I can warp us across the road if I have to.”

“Is that wise?” Cor murmured, glancing at him.

Pelna shrugged. “We’re kinda out of options here, Marshal. Warping the both of us once won’t tire me out, though it might make you light headed… We can rest once we’re across. After that we just have to make it across the river.” He paused, rubbing the stubble on his chin. “If I’m mapping this out right, we should be close to Lestallum by the time the sun sets again if we can’t use a phone at the rest stop, have Lestallum send someone out to pick us up.”

“If we’re lucky,” Cor grumbled. “Someone will already be there.” Because Clarus should have started patrols, and Lestallum would be a good checkpoint for those patrols to stop at. And with the heightened movement of the Imperials, they’d likely be out in force.

“They’ll also have a doctor that can look you over,” Pelna mumbled. “Do better for you than my half-assed attempt.”

Cor chuckled. “It worked. Thank you.”

Pelna just grinned.

* * *

They reached Greyshire while the sun was still low in the sky. The river there was narrow, and easier to cross. The sheer rockwall on the opposite side was rather foreboding. That and the fucking _giant ass snake_ that was coiled up on the bank of the river, snoozing away.

“We,” Cor stated. “Are not fighting that.”

“Agreed. We can probably sneak around it.”

Cor stared at Pelna hard. “No.”

“The way up is just beyond it,” Pelna huffed, frowning at him. “It’ll take us along the cliffside and up to the road, then we can get to Burbost. If we can get there we can see if we can call out. If we’re lucky we won’t have to go all the way to Lestallum.”

Cor agreed, but he wasn’t happy about it.

The damn thing seemed to grow as they got closer to the bank, it’s head the size of a car. Cor had never seen anything like it, and hopefully wouldn’t ever again after today. He kept a close eye on the beast as he and Pelna got closer, edging through the running water as quietly as they could. The river was waist high at its deepest, forcing Pelna to semi-swim for a few short feet before he could stand again.

Cor admitted he never really thought of himself as a very ‘spiritual’ kind of person, but he found himself praying now. Praying to all Six of the bastards in the Beyond, hoping the thing wouldn’t wake from its sunny spot by the riverside. He doubted Pelna could handle it alone, and he wasn’t of much use at the moment.

Gravel crunched under his feet and Cor looked down in surprise to find himself on the shore. Relief flooded him but quickly disappeared when Pelna frantically pulled at the sleeve of his jacket. Turning his head, Cor saw the giant purple coils of the snake shift. It raised its head, giving a long, lazy yawn that showed off the human sized fangs hidden within its mouth.

Fast as lightning, the two of them bolted up the path, ignoring the surprised hiss that quickly turned into a pissed off one. They didn’t stop running, not even when they reached the road, not even when Cor felt a sharp pain lace up along his side as his ribs protested his labored breathing.

Because they could see Burbost and it was the most beautiful sight they had ever seen.

Cor collapsed in the parking lot, earning quite a few stares but his side felt like it was trying to tear free of his body, so he didn’t give a damn. His lungs burned as he pulled in air so he let Pelna do the talking. The other man wasted no time fishing for information from the store clerk. A patrol from Lestallum passed through every few days, checking the rest stop and checkpoint since they had been compromised before. They were expected another patrol soon and as far as he knew no signal jammers were in effect in the area.

Cor practically ripped his phone from his coat, turning it back on while Pelna used the store’s phone to call the Citadel and then Lestallum to arrange transport for them.

Notifications blared to life on the small screen, flashing across every few seconds and making a gentle ‘ping’ each time. The thing was still on fifty percent battery life, and Cor could have kissed it. Checking the notifications, he nearly choked.

Thirty-five missed calls, fifteen voicemails and exactly one-hundred and twenty-seven texts.

Twenty of the missed calls were from Nyx, the rest were from Monica, Clarus, Regis or a random number from a Citadel office.

Every voicemail was from Nyx.  
Every text was from him as well.

It was almost like a timeline of events, he realized as he thumbed through them quickly. They went from worried **[Is everything okay?]** to full blow panicked **[Please answer your god damn phone Cor!]**. Then after several days of just **[Please be okay. Be safe.]** once a day, he got one final text. It was nearly three weeks old by that point.

**[I talked to Cid. I know you’re still out there somewhere. I’m going to hit you so hard when you come home. Just make sure you don’t take too long this time, please?]**

Cor hit the call button without a second though after that. It rang four times too many before there was a ‘click’ and Nyx’s shaky voice filled his head, like balm on a wound. 

That voice was heaven, even when it sounded on the verge or breaking, yet infinitely hopeful.

_”Cor?”_

“ _Is tú mo ghrá._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you fuckers _dare_ look that phrase up. You wait until Nyx's next chapter.  
> -glares-
> 
> And if you already know what it means, don't spoil it.
> 
> [[Twitter](https://twitter.com/FanfictionRei)]


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are adorable and I love all of you.  
> Have a little more CorNyx fluff.  
> I’m gonna write a few chapters in Cor’s view. Nyx’s chapters will pick back up after they leave Lestallum and head home. I wonder how Cor will react to finding out Nyx is a glaive…. hmmmmmmmMMMMMMmmm

# Side Quest Unlocked: [Cor]

# Chapter 11

Cor hung up the phone and leaned back against the seat, staring at the roof of the van. The Kingsglaive that had arrived to take them to Lestallum had crowded Pelna excitedly, talking in rushed sentences, happiness coloring their voices. It seemed a lot of people had been scared the poor man had died. Cor had smiled and watched as the rest of the group piled back inside, Pelna taking up the backseat with him.

“Talk to Nyx?” he murmured, tilting his head to the side.

“Mhm.”

“Did ya say the thing?”

Cor cracked a small smile. “I did.”

“I deserve _two_ medals, Marshal. I expect them when we get back home.” And then Pelna promptly flopped over in the seat and passed out because he’d been without sleep for nearly forty-eight hours and Cor didn’t blame him. Cor was tired as well, but part of him was still too wired from the run the last few hundred feet and talking to Nyx to close his eyes, so instead he pulled up his voicemails like he’d threatened to do, and opened the oldest one first.

_”Please tell me you just had to turn your phone off or it died and you can’t call just yet,”_ came the murmured, panicked voice on the other end. _”Gods, I thought it was bad when you were gone before for so long, but we barely knew each other…”_ there was a bit of a laugh that sounded strangled before the phone beeped, ending the call.

Closing his eyes, he started the next one. This was going to be an emotional shitshow, but he needed to listen to them for Nyx’s sake. The man had sent them to him when he thought the worst had happened after all, and anything Nyx said was important, it didn’t matter how upset, angry or confused he was.

_”I’m not freaking out,”_ Nyx told the phone carefully, despite his voice being very full of panic. _”I’m just… REALLY worried, ok? Because we were talking fine and then like just… gone. You’re just gone. Are you okay? Bahamut’s Balls I swear if something happened I’m finding the person responsible…”_

Cor smiled and shifted through the next few because some of them were only a second long, Nyx having hung up the phone too late to realize the voicemail had taken. It was the final one that did him in, and Cor made a promise to himself that he’d never do something like this to Nyx again after listening to it.

_”I don’t know what to do, Cor.”_ He sounded exhausted. _”Everyone keeps telling me you’ll be okay, but I’m scared and I don’t know how to deal with that. All I have are you, Lib and Crowe, and I’ve only just found you, dammit. If I lose you too…”_ the line went silent for a moment until Nyx came back, sounding broken and hopeless. _”There’s a lot of things I should have said I guess… and if I don’t get to ever see you again, I hope you knew that I-”_ the voicemail cut off and Cor cursed and looked down at his phone with a frown.

Sure, he had the messages forever, but Nyx was never going to tell him what he was going to say in the message. Not until they were on their deathbeds anyway.

* * *

Pelna woke up long enough to cuss out the first Glaive that touched him and immediately passed back out. A nurse had come out and helped them extract the man from the van, dropped him into a wheelchair and then wheeled him off to a room. Cor got the pleasure of also being treated like an invalid even though he tried to explain he’d just walked all the way from fucking Ravatogh.

The nurse had freaked out. Apparently concussions were a big deal. Or maybe it was because his shoulder was still hanging awkwardly and in a makeshift sling. Whichever it was, he was rolled through various rooms so they could poke, prod and reset bones. That reset earned a doctor a rather robust, angry spill of Galahdian curses that Pelna had been steadily teaching him throughout their time on the road together. The doctor had stared because he didn’t understand and Cor was more than satisfied with that.

When he was finally situated into a room, Pelna was there draped in a chair looking beyond happy, his eyes half-lidded and his limbs sprawled everywhere. “Did they drug you?” Cor asked with a soft chuckle to which Pelna just smiled a little more. He looked like he felt like a pile of goop, just sliding wherever he wanted.

They sat in silence for a little bit, Pelna slowly starting to come back to himself as whatever they’d given him wore off. He yawned, snuggled down into the chair again and then stretched his limbs until they popped. Cor rolled his eyes, but smiled a little.

“Thank you.”

Pelna looked up, blinking owlishly and tilted his head. “What for?”

“I’m pretty sure,” Cor grumbled, pointing at himself. “I’d be dead right now. Which means Nyx would be too. So I guess technically you saved two lives when you pulled me out from under Glauca’s blade.”

The Glaive just grinned at him. “That’s what friends are for, Marshal.”

“And,” Cor continued, earning a short laugh from Pelna. “Thank you for teaching me some Galahdian.”

That made the grin on Pelna’s face wider. “It’s fun to yell at people and they not know what you’re saying. But, like I told you when I taught you _Is tú mo ghrá_. It means the same in both languages, but it packs more of a punch.” He stifled a yawn and rubbed his chin. “Want to know another? It’s kinda mushy.”

Cor considered it, because he didn’t really see him and Nyx as the type to start getting all ‘lovey-dovey’ on one another, but it couldn’t hurt to know another term for it that might come in handy to throw out there one day. “Alright.”

“ _Mo chuisle mo chroí_ , mean’s ‘Pulse of my heart’. Kind of an extra sappy way to say it. Seal it away for a special occasion, boss man.”

Cor snorted but sounded the words out carefully before filing it away in the back of his mind. “I might not ever use it,” he murmured thoughtfully. “But if I do, Nyx will probably appreciate it.”

Like his name had summoned him, the door burst open and Cor turned to stare because Nyx was standing there looking like he’d just run a mile, eyes wide and roving from Pelna over to him. Their eyes locked and Cor watched somewhat fascinated as Nyx’s pupils bloomed out and he started walking towards him. “No punching. Yet,” he warned with a small smile.

Then the fussing started, and Nyx looked so close to breaking down it nearly broke his heart, and when he buried his face into the mattress, Cor threaded his fingers through his hair because he needed an anchor and he couldn’t really tangle himself up in Nyx’s limbs at the moment.

“ _[I love you]_ ,” the words came out a soft mumble, but Cor heard them and felt his heart stutter. The monitor off to the side registered it and Pelna grinned wickedly and help up his thumb. “ _[Dickhead]_.” Cor snorted and paused in the gentle rub he’d been giving to the back of Nyx’s skull.

“Did you just call me a dickhead?”

“Yes.”

Cor chuckled and started to rub the back of Nyx’s head again, feeling him relax under the gentle soothing. He didn’t even flinch when the door opened and the rest of the group piled into the small room. Several different pairs of eyes watched the curious interaction between them, but no one mentioned it, though Crowe had this look on her face like she was going to be asking him something later.

* * *

“Should we wake him up?” Monica asked as she watched how Nyx was leaning onto the bed, the crown of his head pressed into Cor’s thigh while Cor kept his hand carefully tangled in his hair. “He can’t be comfortable.”

“No,” three voices said at once, and Libertus looked between Cor and Crowe with a sheepish smile before addressing Monica. “That’s the first time he’s actually slept properly since Cor disappeared. He passed out once, but for the most part he’s been getting maybe an hour or two over the span of days. Let him sleep.”

They settled on getting a chair and carefully maneuvering him so he was sitting instead of crouching beside the bed.

“Well,” Regis murmured, drawing Cor’s attention back to him. “We should head back to Insomnia, we’ll need to write up a report,” he mumbled, rubbing his chin and glancing at Clarus who flinched away. He was the one that had to write it up after all. “I suppose Nyx can be excused to stay here with Cor until they release him?”

Cor’s brow furrowed. “Excused?”

Clarus dutifully ignored him, frowning down at Regis instead before snorting. “Of course, why would I say no?” Then he turned to Pelna. “Are you returning to Insomnia or staying here for longer?”

Pelna seemed to debate on it, glancing between everyone there before shrugging. “I’ll stick around, someone’s gotta make sure these two don’t get into trouble. And I didn’t just lug that tall shithead around for him to get in trouble now.” He grinned, a flash of white teeth and Regis laughed.

Crowe and Lib agreed to return, Lib promising to call to check on them. Monica promised the same, pausing long enough after the others had left the room to look back at Pelna and Cor. “I’m glad you’re okay, Marshal,” she murmured, then pointedly looked at Nyx. “Take care.” Then she left.

Pelna whistled softly, watching her leave. “I think if you’d actually died and hurt him she would have brought you back herself and killed you again.” He paused, glancing over at where Nyx was still very much unconscious. “Asshole like him is easy to fall in love with I reckon.”

Cor chuckled softly. “Maybe he just has a gift.”

“Or a curse. He might attract the wrong people.” Pelna yawned and stretched again. “Well I’m sleeping until they run me out of here and then I’ll go grab a room at the hotel. Once they release you, the two of you should do the same.” He pointed at Cor. “You, are going to be told not to move a whole bunch for a while, so ya’ll might as well use this as a vacation.”

Glancing down at Nyx who still seemed content in his bent over position, his head pillowed on his arms, Cor had to agree. “I suppose staying off the front lines for a bit wouldn’t hurt.”

* * *

The nurses tried to get Nyx to leave, _once_. He’d responded by smiling and calling them every Galahdian swear Pelna had bothered to teach Cor, and then a few extra ones he didn’t know. He took pride in being able to understand a few, but tucked others away to ask about later. The nurses had stared at him practically mesmerized, then glanced at Cor because of course he was supposed to know exactly what his soulmate was saying. Not that he was going to tell them Nyx had basically told them to go fuck a coeurl.

“He said ‘No’.”

Nyx had burst out laughing, and the two women had stared at him in confusion before they had relented and let the prickly Galahdian stay where he was, which was glued to Cor’s hip apparently because he hadn’t left that spot. And Cor wasn’t about to tell him to. In fact, Cor had woken up at some point to find Nyx leaning slightly onto the bed from his chair, his arm pillowing his head while his other arm was stretched along the bedside so their fingers were tangled together.

Pelna had informed him they were ‘sickeningly adorable’ and then went to rent a room at a hotel.

Currently, Nyx was staring out of the window curiously, only able to see part of the powerplant from the angle the building sat at. Cor was getting dressed because they were being kicked out of the hospital after three days and he was happy about it.

“I suppose I should call Lib and let him know we’re on our way back,” Nyx murmured as he turned to look over his shoulder. “Knowing him, he’ll want to throw you a ‘welcome back’ party.”

“Actually,” Cor paused in the buttoning of his shirt. “I was thinking about staying in Lestallum for a bit.”

Nyx blinked and tilted his head. “I mean, you can. The doctors did say you wouldn’t be doing anything with that arm for at least two months.”

“And you’re staying with me,” Cor stated pointedly because he’d noticed the lack of ‘we can’ in that statement.

“Am I?”

Cor snorted and carefully crossed his arms. “We’re taking a vacation.”

Nyx wrinkled his nose slightly and carefully sounded out the word. “Hm, I don’t know that that is. It sounds like some made-up Lucian word.”

Cor opened his mouth to make a retort but paused when Nyx shot him a sly look because the other man was _teasing_ him and it was the first time Nyx had actually acted somewhat like his old self since bursting through the door a few days ago. Snorting and giving Nyx a little crooked grin, he started towards the door. “Pelna told me there’s some kind of festival happening tonight. We should go.”

“Festival?” Nyx followed along behind him curiously. “I think the only festival I’ve seen is the one in Insomnia for the Founder King.”

Turning slightly to look back at him, Cor frowned. “They didn’t do festivals in Galahd?”

Nyx shrugged. “Not really, we’d do get togethers for occasions like holidays or if a harvest season was really good. Most of my ‘festival’ experience was after Lib and I moved out to Insomnia. We went to the first one for the Founder King, we talked about going to the Moogle Festival in Altissia but couldn’t get off work to go, then the bar came along and…” he shrugged again. “It all took a back seat.”

“Fireworks?”

“Never seen ‘em.”

Cor’s frown deepened. “Cotton candy?”

“You eat cotton?”

“We’re staying,” Cor stated pointedly and then walked along the road towards the hotel Pelna had told him about.

Nyx snorted and trotted along behind him. “Fine,” he said with a sigh, trying to sound put-out but failing. “I guess _someone_ has to make sure you don’t use that arm.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those curious, yes this is based off the Assassin’s Creed festival that Square did. xD

# Side Quest Unlocked: [Cor]

# Chapter 12

The fact that Nyx had never been to a festival - a real one, not the dumb ‘Founder King’ celebration - bugged Cor a lot more than he thought it would. He was honestly upset that Insomnia didn’t offer its people more, but also upset at the idea of other areas doing the same. Of course Altissia was a rich area, full of resources and novelties that allowed them such events. Lestallum just seemed to attract the kind of attention such festivals required, and it was also the largest city that wasn’t blocked off by some type of barrier where all people could join in. Insomnia had it’s checkpoints and wall, and Altissia had the whole fucking ocean.

Galahd had been different story altogether. Mostly inhabited by farmers or craftsmen, they had been self contained and what wealth they’d had, they’d shared. Outsiders had been turned away and most never ventured beyond their island willingly. Those few that had, were cut off. So it was no surprise that Galahd hadn’t had festivals like those thrown on the mainland. It was just sad that Nyx had still yet to experience a proper one since living outside of his home for the past nine years.

Nyx seemed sceptical of the whole affair, reading over the booklet Cor had given him when he’d asked what all of this was about. “An order of assassin’s?” he mumbled then shot a glance at Cor. “So, what? They just make up something and throw a festival for it?”

“You remember the stories about Crepera?” Cor asked, pointing to the painted likeness of her on the front of the booklet.

“The Rogue Queen?” Nyx scoffed. “Are you going to tell me this stuff was true?”

Cor shrugged. “It’s a story linked to a myth. Who knows if it is real or not. The point is to have fun with it,” he murmured and nudged Nyx with his shoulder gently. “I thought I was supposed to be the skeptical one in this relationship.”

Nyx pouted. “You were gone for months, I had to play both roles.”

“Well I’m back,” Cor teased, carefully laying his good arm around Nyx’s shoulders, resting his hand on the back of his neck and giving a gentle squeeze. “And festivals are meant to be fun, not taken seriously. It’s more for the games, the prizes and the candy.”

“That cotton stuff you talked about?” Nyx asked, curious.

Cor snorted. “I still can’t believe you’ve never had it before.”

Nyx made a face, turning to look at him. “I guess Galahdians just aren’t weird and eat cotton.” It made him laugh, which is what Nyx must have been after because he smiled.

* * *

Nyx read the story in the booklet, if only to get an idea of what he was dealing with while he waited for Cor to take a shower.

According to legend, Crepera’s rule as Queen had been heavily questioned because most saw a woman as unfit to hold the throne. She had operated from the shadows, ruling and protecting her kingdom. So hidden that even her face was forgotten. It was during that time that lore alleged she allined herself with this ‘assassin order’. Details were a little foggy after that, suggesting that there was a group that had infiltrated the city known as Templars who worked under the order of the then ruling Emperor of Niflheim.

It would seem that Lucis and the Niffs had been trying to destroy each other for quite some time, if they were being assholes even two-thousand years ago.

The order had disappeared from Lucis after the queens death, but apparently the Templar order still remained, though weakened and few in number. As of today it was unknown if either group still operated inside of Lucis but it was thought that the orders were still around, hidden in plain sight from the rest of the world.

When Cor walked out of the bathroom toweling his hair dry, Nyx held up the booklet and pointed at it. “This,” he informed the other man, “is about as believable as a chocobo mating with a cockatrice.”

“Stranger things have happened,” Cor stated then laughed when Nyx hurled the booklet at him.

* * *

The festival began as the sun started to sink below the horizon. This year they’d splurged on the budget a bit, offering costumes to people as they entered the festival area. They were robes said to be worn by those who were part of the ‘assassin’s order’. There was a chart, talking about how those robes had changed over time, showing off different designs from different eras and areas. It seemed the committee behind the festival had chosen the robes used in hotter climates, something befitting Lestallum since the city stayed warm due to the powerplant. The costumes mostly consisted of draped fabric, a wide leather collar, pants, sandel like boots, and a lot of belts.

“Did the assassin’s have a fetish or something?” Nyx asked as he tried, and failed, to cover himself a bit more with the fabric. It showed off a portion of his right side which was decorated with a spider web of scars. It looked as though lightning had touched his skin, branding him.

Cor resisted the urge to trace the scar with his finger. It was old, many years healed over, but it was a story he hadn’t been told. His mind lingered on that thought. He’d have to rectify that, and soon.

“Could have been for weapons,” he suggested. “One for a sword on the back. Others for pouches or smaller weapons like knives. I doubt they had kings and queens giving them access to an armiger like we do now.”

Nyx gave a little snort. “Or they were just secretly a bunch of kinky bastards that were into belts and strategically placed fabric.”

Cor made an amused sound in the back of his throat before reaching out and hooking his fingers around one of the belts crossing over Nyx’s chest. A gentle tug had the other man stepping closer until he was almost against Cor’s chest. “I don’t know,” he murmured as he lowered his head down to breathe lightly against Nyx’s ear. “I kinda like them.” Nyx turned into a sputtering, red-faced mess, and Cor pulled away chuckling. He had a task to take care of today, a quest to find out what Nyx’s favorite sweet was so he could have something to lavish the man with when he came home from long missions.

Nyx’s first discovery of the evening was saltwater taffy, something he admitted to having once, but he hadn’t even been a teenager at the time and only remembered that it had been colorful. The look on his face when he tried it breathed new life into Cor’s very soul.

Next was Altissian dark chocolate, which Nyx eyed with such suspicion Cor almost felt offended. “What’s wrong?”

“That doesn’t have peppers in it, does it?” Nyx made it sound like the most innocent question in the world.

Cor stared at him. “Who the _fuck_ puts peppers in chocolate?”

Nyx stared then gestured towards himself as if the answer was obvious. “Weirdass Galahdian, remember?”

“I…” Cor frowned at him then shoved the chocolate into his own mouth. He only offered Nyx a piece when the younger man whined cutely. “Why would you ruin chocolate with peppers?” he mumbled, still confused by the prospect. “That’s just… _wrong_.”

“Is this going to be a hang up?” Nyx questioned. “Because it feels like it’s going to be a hang up. Twenty years from now, we’ll be in bed, sound asleep, and you’re going to wake me up and ask me about it, again.”

“Fucking _peppers_ , Nyx.”

“Just wait till you hear what we do with _pickles_.”

* * *

Nyx had wandered off towards an event that was happening in the main area of Lestallum near the road while Cor hunted for one final treat. He found it on the road to the power plant, a stall tucked off to the side selling mini stuffed chocobos, cactuars, moogles and some type of weird cat-fox looking thing the vendor said was a ‘carbuncle’. It looked like something Nyx would quietly obsess over for years, like his chocobos. Cor eyed the thing thoughtfully but instead bought what he’d really been searching for.

The bag was full of spun sugar, a cloud of blue and pink that faded to purple in areas where the colors mixed. He held it carefully so as not to ruin the cloud like texture as he made his way back to the plaza. Finding Nyx took a moment, but he finally found him watching the ‘Leap of Faith’ event where festival goers climbed to the top of a tall wooden tower, and jumped into a pile of hay covered mats below.

Cor watched as the man at the top swan-dove off the plank and hurtled down to the hay below. “I hope you don’t want to do that,” he murmured as he stopped beside his other half. “I will cart you back to the hotel and lock you in the room.”

Nyx snorted. “Please, my suicidal days are well behind me.” That had Cor snapping his eyes to his face, searching for something, though he wasn’t sure what. Nyx only offered him a small smile. “Promise.”

As if to reassure him, Nyx playfully bumped his shoulder into Cor’s before his arm snaked its way around the Marshal’s waist, fingers hooking onto one of the costume belts. The gesture was a possessive one, something Cor wasn’t usually on the receiving end of and it sent a strange little flutter through his stomach. Lifting the bag he’d bought a few moments ago, Cor shoved it into Nyx’s chest carefully and averted his gaze, watching another jumper make the plunge towards the hay.

“Cotton candy?” Nyx asked curiously, and only got a curt nod in response. Cor continued to refuse to look in Nyx’s direction because there was this weird, warm sensation dancing around in the back of his head. He was trying to untangle it when wispy, pink sugar appeared in front of his nose. Going cross eyed for a moment, Cor blinked then focused on the hand holding the candy before him. Sliding his gaze over to Nyx, who gave him that sheepish little grin of his, Cor took the fluff from his hand and popped it in his mouth.

There weren’t a lot of things in the world that made Cor stop what he was doing. A puppy he might pause for. A chocobo sunning, maybe. A cat was a weakness he would never admit to, but would always indulge with a quick head pat. He never really deemed any of them worthy of the term ‘cute’ however. That was a title he’d never given to anything.

Until now, because watching Nyx Ulric discover what cotton candy was, was about the cutest thing he could imagine happening in the world. He’d pulled it apart, played with it a bit then had placed it in his mouth. The look on his face had been priceless.

“It melted…”

His voice was filled with such wonder Cor couldn’t help but to smile. He had the feeling there was going to be a lot more of that too. Smiling on both their parts as they figured out life together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short, cute dose of fluff. I remember reading another ffxv fanfic that hinted at the Rogue Queen being part of the Assassin’s Order from Assassin’s Creed, but I couldn’t remember who it was. It makes sense in a way.
> 
> I also had another idea for another FFXV story (from Nyx's view again of course). I'm trying desperately to keep it buried before I dip my fingers into too many pies.  
> -sob-  
> -writes it anyway-


	13. Chapter 13*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise smut! :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh… Surprise smut? :D  
> It didn’t start off as such. It just kinda.. happened.

# Side Quest Unlocked: [Cor]

# Chapter 13*

Cor sat on the edge of the bed, watching as Nyx struggled with one of the straps over his chest in mild amusement. He cursed at least three times, before giving up and looking at Cor with this pleading look, then exasperation because Cor was just _sitting there_.

“Help? Or I’m getting a knife.”

“And damage these fine outfits?” Cor asked as he stood and walked closer, carefully cinching the belt up a bit before loosening it from its buckle. He was careful as he moved the belts and buckles, earning a little shiver from Nyx when he made sure to brush his knuckles against the bare skin of his chest. When he felt the first details of the scar along Nyx’s side, he turned his hand and let his palm spread out across the area. Nyx didn’t flinch, but he felt the movement of his sharp little intake of breath. “Mind telling me the story behind this?” Cor asked, letting his fingers travel along the scar as it etched its way along the right side of his chest and down towards his abdomen. It reminded him of the spider web effect that happened on ice when something heavy landed on it. The point of impact seemed to be near the center of his pectoral, any further to the left and the hit would have been to his heart directy. “Looks like it hurt.”

Nyx snorted and shuddered out a small laugh while Cor invested himself in unbuckling the collar that rested on his shoulders. When Cor continued to dutifully loosen straps and move fabric at a leisurely pace, Nyx sighed. “It’s not even that interesting of a story,” he mumbled as the collar came off and the fabric slid off his shoulder a bit. “When I was eighteen, I went out with a hunting party. One of those ‘becoming a man’ things,” he explained. “We were _supposed_ to be hunting a Gigantoad, but the lare we found and entered belonged to a rather old and ornery coeurl.”

Cor stopped in his diligent removal of Nyx’s robes, glancing at him with a furrowed brow. “Please tell me you left very quickly.”

“Oh I tried,” Nyx laughed. “Have you ever fought a coeurl? Those bastards are vicious. And this one was _Galahdian_ , they are twice the size of the ones here. Make the Lucian ones look like kittens.” He paused when Cor traced the scar again, hovering over the area where it seemed to center. “I was giving the others time to leave,” he explained, shivering slightly at the way Cor looked at him as he spoke. “I was young and quick on my feet. I figured I could distract it while they got out. It tagged me with a whisker and shocked the shit out of me. I think I blacked out for a moment, because one second I was standing there with one of my dad’s kukris and the next I’m laying on the ground and I’m pretty sure I could smell burning skin.” He gave a little yelp when Cor leaned into him, burying his nose into the juncture of his neck. “Cor?”

“Idiot,” the older man grumbled as he shifting his hands to his stomach, unhitching the belt there carefully. “I wish I’d met you sooner so I could curb your habits of being really dumb.”

“Hey, someone had to help them get out of there. Most of them were older men from the village. I didn’t want them to get hurt,” Nyx stated determinedly. “I wasn’t worried about proving I was a man at that point, I was worried about getting them out of there.” He paused long enough to yelp because Cor was _biting_. “Hey!”

Cor snorted softly at the reaction, running his tongue over the bite carefully though he hadn’t bitten hard enough to cause any damage. “I would hope,” he murmured against Nyx’s neck. “That that was enough to prove to them you were a ‘man’.”

“It was a right of passage,” Nyx huffed, his hands carefully undoing the buckles on Cor’s robes, finding it easier than removing his own. "If you couldn't tell, I survived," he joked but yelped when Cor bit him again for the effort. “I lost my dad’s blade though. He had another set forged, so when I left home, he gave me the matching one to the one I lost.” He chuckled softly. “Said it was a good reminder of where I’d come from.”

“Hm, I suppose it would be,” Cor mumbled softly, letting Nyx undo the fastenings on his own robes, letting the collar drop to the floor and the fabric slide off his shoulder to dangle from where it was tucked around his waist. 

With the belts around Nyx’s waist out of the way, it left him in the rough spun pants and boot like sandals they’d given them. “I think I can get it from here,” Nyx said as the last buckle on Cor’s belt came undone. “I need to find my-”

He was cut off when Cor kissed him, carefully shoving him so he sat on the edge of the bed while Cor leaned over him, holding that upturned face in his hands to get better access. Nyx seemed to freeze up for one second before melting, his hands moving up to tangle into Cor’s shorter hair.

Cor wasn’t patient or gentle, pushing and shoving Nyx until his back was pressed against the mattress and Cor was leaning over him like some kind of possessive guard dog. But he hadn’t seen the other man for the past four months and had spent the days before that wondering if he was going to make it home alive.

Pelna had joked about him being overly sweet on Nyx, but he didn’t think Pelna fully understood what it felt like. To have the other half of you miles upon miles away, worried sick and not being able to just _hold_ them.

Nyx knew. He _had_ to know, but it didn’t stop the younger man from pushing him away gently, swearing under his breath. “Cor,” he breathed out, his voice broken by short pants. “You’re shoulder.”

“I’m cashing in that rain check,” he growled gently in return. “No refunds.”

Nyx snorted and tried to hold back a laugh. “I’m not taking it back, dumbass. But you might hurt your shoulder, and then we’ll have to go _back_ to the hospital.”

“More time for me to woo you.”

Nyx sputtered. “Woo… Fuck off. We do have jobs to get back to. Imagine how much paperwork poor Monica has. And the King is probably just waiting-” He broke off when Cor pressed their lips together again, holding them there and letting their tongues stroke against one another until Nyx relaxed under him.

“Please,” Cor murmured, trailing kisses along Nyx’s jaw. “Do not bring Regis into the bedroom when I’m trying to fuck you senseless.” Nyx made a slightly high-pitched squeak that quickly turned into a moan when Cor slid his leg between Nyx’s thighs, pushing up against him.

Cor wasn’t going slow on purpose, because given the chance Nyx would start thinking. Then he would start _over_ thinking, and an over thinking Nyx was a bad Nyx. Besides, Cor was the best one to keep tabs on his shoulder, and so far it hadn’t told him _not_ to continue what he was doing, so he sure as hell wasn’t stopping.

Pressing his hand against Nyx’s chest to somewhat keep him in place, Cor leaned over to the nightstand and retrieved a small blue bottle he had discovered after acquiring the room for the night. He didn’t know who’d placed the bottle of lube there, maybe it was complements of the hotel like the little bottles of soap and shampoo in the shower. Whatever it was, it was beyond welcome.

Turning his attention back on Nyx, Cor made short work of his pants, untying the drawstring and tugging both the pants and Nyx’s boxers down. Nyx made a huffing sound but moved his hips to be helpful before fumbling with the knot tied in the string of Cor’s. He’d barely gotten the rough spun pants down Cor’s hips when the other man decided right then was the time he needed to glide fingers and lube across Nyx’s cock. Nyx barely got an ‘oh shit’ out before he was biting back a moan. Then Cor used his other hand to sweep a little bit lower and Nyx gave up all pretense of pretending he was in control of this matter.

Cor was perfectly okay with Nyx giving up and turning into a pile of putty in his hands, letting him mold him any which way he could. He flashed him a little crooked smile which Nyx tried to glare at but failed because his eyes were already a little unfocused, his breath coming in little shudders that made Cor smile. Leaning lower, Cor pressed kisses along Nyx’s stomach, feeling muscles twitch with each touch as one hand glided over the other’s dick and the other traveled lower to the ring of muscle that quivered when he touched it with his thumb. This part he went slower with, making sure there was more than enough lube there to ease into that opening. Distracting Nyx was also easy, such as nibbling on the soft skin near the juncture of his hip, following the muscle down his hip to his thigh with his tongue, letting his tongue, teeth, and hand do the talking while he carefully worked the other man up into a frenzy of soft, wheezing pleas and curses.

One finger didn’t face him, two made him twitch and three had him tugging at Cor’s hair while short, shuddery moans fell from his throat. The look in his eyes when Cor finally crawled back up his body was enough to have him stripping down what was left of their clothing. Pupils wide, making his blue eyes darker, and the hazy fog that had settled in them that focused on Cor’s face as soon as he appeared. Tunneled in on him really, like he was the only thing there. The only thing that mattered. He pushed himself between Nyx’s thighs, his nose lowering to his neck where he nuzzled and murmured softly, nonsensical things that didn’t really matter because Nyx already knew most of them anyway.

“We’re going to make a mess,” Nyx murmured, his voice hitching slightly when Cor brought his body closer, pressing against him. Cor treaded water because edging Nyx towards desperation was fun and possibly a bit masochistic.

“That’s what housekeeping is for,” Cor murmured back and took distinct pleasure in the fact that the heat that reached Nyx’s face was a slow spread of red from his neck all the way up to his ears.

Nyx started to speak, opened his mouth but his words were lost in the cavern of Cor’s as he kissed him, letting his body slide forward at the same time. Nyx’s breath hitched in the back of his throat, caught there in a small mewling plea before turning into a groan when Cor moved. Nyx’s fingers skittered from his hair down his back to his hips where they dug into muscle, holding on desperately. He tossed his head back and Cor let his mouth move down his neck, following the tendon until he reached his chest, then moved to the scar that appeared there. He lavished it with his tongue, tracing the web of scarring across the muscle while his hand stayed busy stroking Nyx and rubbing his palm leisurely across the head of his cock before rubbing back down to the root. Then he shuddered and Cor found himself pulling away slightly while Nyx shuddered and came and cursed under his breath while he clenched his teeth.

Cor laughed softly as he leaned over him, kissing his throat and breathing out hard when Nyx’s body twitched around him. The sensation started somewhere in the top of his head, traveled down his spine to his toes then back up again. It took a few more thrusts on his part and the aftershocks of Nyx’s own orgasm to send him over, earning a low hiss as he shuddered and buried his nose against Nyx’s throat.

Quiet fell between them, only the sounds of their breathing slowing from frantic pants to something more manageable filling the air. Then there was a low ‘boom’ in the air and light flared in the room. Turning his head so he could peer out of the window while his cheek was pressed against Nyx’s chest, Cor watched as another firework went off in the distance, exploding in the sky in a shock of color and light that slowly faded.

“Shower,” Nyx huffed, his breath moving across Cor’s scalp. “And then maybe we can go watch that?”

Cor chuckled as he moved to get up carefully, nuzzling Nyx as he got one last shudder out of the man before he stood up. “I think we can watch from the roof… but yes, shower first.”

* * *

Cor, ever the gentleman, let Nyx use the shower first if only because it was too small for both of them to fit in it and the tub looked like some ancient torture device. Nyx was quick and came out fighting with a braid that seemed to have knotted up on him instead of coming out easily. Cor left him to snark at the hair in the mirror while he went to let hot water wash over him and get cleaned up. A quick scrub and he was done, pulling on clothes he’d brought into the bathroom with him. He walked out toweling his hair in time to hear Nyx hissing something that sounded like a curse.

When Cor peered into the room from the little closet like area before the bathroom, Nyx was glaring at his phone in distaste. “Everything ok?”

The frown that had been tugging at the corners of Nyx’s mouth disappeared when he looked up and met Cor’s gaze. Whatever annoyance was there disappeared as well, his eyes going from dark and broody to light and, happy? The curl of his mouth suggested it was happiness. “Yeah, just bullshit.” He tossed his phone onto the bed and stood with a stretch. “To the roof?”

“To the roof,” Cor agreed, watching as Nyx headed for the door. “I need to grab something,” he called when he heard it open. Nyx hummed in acknowledgement and peered out the door and down the hall. Cor took those critical seconds to tap Nyx’s phone screen. Titus Drautos’ name lit the screen, the call having ended in the seconds before Nyx had tossed his phone to the side.

Cor was curious, but didn’t know how to question Nyx as to why Drautos was calling him, or even _knew_ him for that matter. He could understand Regis or even Clarus calling, but Drautos? That was obscure, unless the two men had formed some kind of friendship during the months he’d been gone. Which seemed unlikely since Titus had the humor of a broken plate and Nyx stayed away from the Citadel as a general rule.

Maybe the asshole had broken down and visited the bar with his Glaives? Anything was possible.

Shaking his head and grabbing his own phone just in case he did get a call, even though he was pretty sure Regis had forbidden anyone from even texting him, Cor moved out the door and pointed Nyx in the direction of the roof access. Two flights of stairs and an annoying door later found them leaning on the brick and mortar edge of the hotel, watching as fireworks exploded across the sky. Nyx made a curious sound in the back of his throat when one firework took on the appearance of a cartoon chocobo’s face. When the finale went off and a vast array of fireworks lit the sky different hues, Nyx shuffled a little closer and Cor draped his arm around his waist, his thumb finding a belt loop and hooking there.

“Enjoy your vacation?” Cor murmured, resting his chin on the crown of Nyx’s head when presented with the opportunity to do so.

Nyx snorted and wiggled a bit, which Cor recognized as him trying to get a little closer. Then he felt his arm slide behind him and hook into the edge of his pants and wondered quietly if he could just run away with the man and never go back to Insomnia.

It was a dumb idea.

He’d always go back no matter how much he thought about leaving.

“I enjoyed the parts where you weren’t dead,” Nyx stated cheerily. “And just so you know, Regis speeds and should get in trouble for it.”

Cor choked on a laugh, tilting his head so he could smother it against the top of Nyx’s head.

Their vacation might be ending, but it was alright. They were alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut!  
> Also, I’m trying to figure out a way to give you guys little sneak peeks of stuff that’s coming up that I’ve been secretly working on for a few days now, one that’s in universe for RiM and SQU AU, and another that’s its own thing, but I can’t really figure out how. xD I didn’t want to spam AO3 with little short stuff.
> 
> But until I can figure something out, I guess be on the lookout for a story titled “Second-Hand Smoke” which is a new AU for FFXV, and “Blood Red Summer” which is the story for Tobul and Luca I promised that will be added to this series. They won’t be up right away, maybe within the week. Work is slowly killing me but I get two days off in… 3 more nights?


	14. Chapter 14

# Side Quest Unlocked: Cor

# Chapter 14

Crowe was sitting on the bar waiting for Libertus when Cor walked in. Her eyes lit up immediately when she saw him, putting Cor on guard. An excited Galahdian could mean a lot of things, several of which included bodily harm.

“Marshal!” she called out as he approached, looking around warily for some impending attack. “You’re just in time.”

Cor frowned and glanced at the clock. It was still early morning, and he wasn’t late. He’d agreed to carpool with Nyx to work since they now both went to the Citadel. He’d brought his car with him because he still refused to ride in the death trap both Nyx and Libertus seemed to think was road worthy.

“In time? For?” he murmured and looked back at her questioningly.

She smiled crookedly at him and winked. “In time for the _show_!” she teased, tugging his arm until he sat on one of the stools in front of the bar. “Because I know for a fact you haven’t seen it yet.”

His frown deepened and he started to ask her what the hell she was talking about but stopped when he heard footsteps on the stairs.

“Nyx hurry up, I can hear Crowe teasing Cor,” Libertus called back over his shoulder before making his way down. He gave Cor a smile in greeting before turning to Crowe. “Away with you,” he teased her, shooing her away. “Vile harpy.” Crowe hissed at him playfully, backing off with her hands raised and fingers curved like talons.

Cor was still trying to figure out what the woman meant, and frowned at the two pointedly. He would have asked, but Nyx came trotting down the stairs just as his jaw loosened and his lips parted.

“Fuck the guy that designed these,” he complained as he reached the last step, pausing to fight with a button on his uniform. “I bet he worshiped Ifrit. They should burn these.”

Cor, to his credit, was trying very hard to pay attention but found his mind was quite willing to fuck right off. He’d seen the uniform before. Hell, he’d had to _wear_ the damned thing. It was entirely different seeing Nyx, the other half of his soul, standing there in all that black fabric and gold detailing. It was doing something funny to his insides.

He rather enjoyed the feeling.

Nyx glanced up from where he’d stopped to fight with the button, seemingly becoming aware of the fixated stare Cor was leveling at him. “Is something wrong?” His brow furrowed and worry lines appeared on his face. “Cor?”

A hand landed on his shoulder, though Cor didn’t turn to see who its owner was. He didn’t have to. “It’s okay, Nyx,” Crowe piped up from beside him. “He’s just realizing how hot his boyfriend is in his uniform.”

Nyx’s face turned a surprising shade of red. “He’s seen this getup a million times, Crowe.”

“But he hasn’t seen _you_ in it,” she reminded him, then snickered when Nyx squirmed. “When his brain is done melting, I’m sure he’ll tell you.”

Brain melting. That was a good way to describe it, Cor decided, and continued to let it do so.

* * *

“You’re still angry with me.”

Cor blinked and turned from his window to look back over his shoulder. The King had entered his office and was in the process of taking a seat. He hadn’t even heard him. Well that was bad news.

“I’m sorry?”

Regis stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowed. “You’re… not still angry at me?” He was confused and Cor was throwing him off balance because Cor wasn’t angry, he was just fucking distracted. “What were you staring at so intently?”

“The training field,” he admitted with a shrug. “Drautos has them out there running laps.”

The sly smile that melted across the King's face belated horrible, horrible things. “Oh? Has a certain Glaive caught your eye? Should I tell Nyx he should be jealous?”

Nyx.  
Jealous.

Why did that sound appealing?

Cor cleared his throat and took a seat. “I’m not angry with you,” he responded. “Though Nyx was angry with me. He finds it odd that I can get myself… Uninvited to events.”

“Have you told him the story about that time you were ‘invited’ to a council meeting?” When Cor shook his head, the King grinned. “Oh the next time I have tea with him _that_ will definately be a topic of discussion.”

“Please, you’ll scar him with the retellings of my prowess in getting out of political functions. Remember the Gala Clarus’ wife threw a few years ago?” Cor waited while Regis seemed to think it over. “The one where I set the curtains on fire.”

The King’s eyes lit up. “Ah, yes. You were banned from the Amicitia Estate.”

Cor’s smile was only a slight curl of his lips.

An easy silence lulled between the two men, cups of tea appearing on Cor’s desk via the King, one of which he offered to the Marshal; a peace offering it seemed.

“Tell me,” the King’s voice broke through the quiet like a stick breaking underfoot in a thicket. Loud and distracting. He was also, Cor noted, smiling like a cat that had finally cornered a mouse it had been chasing. “Is it true?”

Cor was a good soldier and did not let his King see the sly smirk on his face, hiding it behind the tea cup. “Is what true?”

Seeing Regis squirm made the lie that much sweeter. Cor couldn’t wait to get home so he could kiss Nyx into that smug, satisfied pile of mush he sometimes became when Cor got it into his head to kiss him like he thought he should be kissed. Hell, he might even have him dragged to his office before then. The thought of having Nyx spilled out across his couch, all warm and content was rather appealing.

“Nyx told me the two of you decided to adopt while in Lestallum. Is it true?” The look on Regis’ face almost made Cor feel bad.

_Almost_.

Cor gave a long suffering sigh, because he was good at those. Too good. “You weaseled it out of him, I see.” He tried to sound disappointed. “I wanted us to tell you together.” Regis’ face was alight with pleasure at the news. “His name,” Cor continued because he was an asshole and would let this play out until the last possible second. “Is Ronan. We call him Roe most of the time. He’s quite the adorable little thing.”

“A boy,” Regis hummed then nodded to himself. “How old?”

Why did Regis have to make it so goddamn easy to lie to him? “One, he’ll be two towards the end of winter.”

“Has he taken to you two yet? Or does he seem to favor one of you more?”

He and Nyx were going to have to adopt an actual kid after this to get the King off their asses for the lie. It would make for a beautiful story though, one to tell future generations. “Oh he absolutely _adores_ Nyx,” Cor explained, letting a genuine smile creep up on him if only because it made him that much more believable. “They were cuddled up on the bed this morning. It broke my heart to wake them.”

Regis was seeing stars. “When can I meet him?”

Cor frowned and thought about it. “Let me get with Nyx about that. He still hasn’t settled in completely and he’s still getting used to Libertus and Crowe. I don’t want to displace him too much.” Regis was nodding in agreement as he stood, ready to take his leave.

“I can’t wait, Cor. I’m so happy for the two of you.”

Cor smiled. They were going to hell; he and Nyx. But they were going to enjoy the ride. “So am I, Regis. So am I.”

* * *

Three sharp knocks hit his door and Cor looked up from the paperwork he’d been looking over. Only one person knocked like that in the entirety of the Citadel. His summons had been headed it seemed. He suppressed his grin. “Come in.” He made a show of looking back down at the paperwork, not looking up when Monica opened the door and stood to the side.

“Ulric is here for you, Marshal,” she announced.

He looked up at that, and watched as Nyx edged into his office looking completely put out. Part of Cor knew it was probably because Drautos had given him shit for being summoned to the Crownsguard offices, of all places. The other part of him didn’t give a single, flying fuck. He’d seen those bruises on Nyx when the other man didn’t think he was looking. Drautos could eat a bag of Cactuar Dicks for all he cared.

Nyx was looking around his office curiously, which made Cor realize the man had never been in the room before. “Thank you, Monica,” he told her, giving her a slight dip of his head. She returned the gesture and left, closing the door behind her. The click of the door brought Nyx out of whatever thoughts he’d been wading through as he looked around the room.

“I want you to know,” he started as he walked over towards Cor’s desk. “That the Commander was giving me _all_ of the dirties looks he could muster when Monica fetched me.” He paused thoughtfully. “Part of me wants to wait out that particular storm here.. But another part of me wants to go back with like… a hickey or something. Just because that asshole will squirm like crazy.” Because Drautos still didn’t know, and showing up with something like that would send up flags and cause the Commander to start asking questions. Questions that Regis would wind up answering in the most infuriating, vague ways possible.

Cor stood and walked around his desk to stand in front of Nyx who had to tilt his head back slightly to peer up at him. He didn’t move back as Cor crowded into his personal space, just accepted him as part of it. Dropping his head down, Cor caught Nyx’s mouth with his own and proceeded to deftly kiss him into the happy puddle of mush he’d pictured in his head. Nyx was content with grabbing the front of his jacket and just holding on, until Cor had to catch him under his elbows to keep him from crumbling onto the floor when he finally lifted his head for air.

“What,” Nyx murmured, his eyes a little glassy and pupils blown out wide, “was that for?”

“Regis,” Cor stated simply, and smirked when Nyx had to blink a few times to get his eyes to focus back on his face. “Stopped by my office earlier to talk about this whole adoption thing.”

“Oh.” Nyx paused for a moment, then blinked again. “ _Oh._ Oh shit, did you tell him the truth? Was he mad?” He frowned then. “If he was mad, you wouldn’t have kissed me. I think?”

Cor laughed because he couldn’t help it. “He wants to meet our son.” He grinned that crooked grin that told Nyx everything he needed to know.

“You didn’t tell him?” Nyx asked, frowning slightly and then sighed when Cor just continued to grin. “You didn’t tell him.” He turned his blue eyes to the ceiling. “Gods. Bahamut might actually manifest out of his anger and strike us down.”

“It will be hilarious though. You should have seen his face while he was here. He was so _excited_.”

“It’s wrong, the amount of pleasure you’re getting out of this.”

Cor hummed in the back of his throat, lowering his head down to nuzzle the side of Nyx’s throat because he very much loved the man for making it possible to tease their King this horribly. He even nibbled on the soft patch of skin near his jaw, just under his ear, earning a light chuckle from his mate.

“Titus is probably going to hit you harder for coming back with this, you know,” Cor murmured against his skin before carefully setting about the pleasurable chore of doing just that. Hit him hard and then ask a hell of a lot of questions.

Nyx made a sound when Cor moved his tongue across the patch of skin that sounded distinctly like a purr, to which the Marshal quickly concentrated on recreating. “I,” Nyx breathed out slowly, the word getting caught in a low moan as it escaped his throat. “Don’t care.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drautos is way out of the circle of the whole CorNyx thing. He's like, actively the only member of the Citadel that probably doesn't know.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -slips in, drops chapter-  
> ♡

# Side Quest Unlocked: Cor

# Chapter 15

Cor was a good soldier. He knew Nyx would cave to the weight of keeping a secret from their King, so when Regis arrived in his office that afternoon with a deep frown on his face, Cor had to feign innocence. Which was hard to do, especially for one not very innocent Marshal such as himself.

“When were you going to tell me it was all a lie?” Regis asked as he entered the room then shut the door.

He sounded genuinely upset, Cor decided as he lit his cigarette. Nyx had been agonizing over the lie for a month now, staring at the cat in genuine horror while trying to figure out how they were going to break it to the King that their ‘son’ was actually a four-legged ball of fur that produced a twin of similar proportions in just his hair. Daily. Cor had gotten some kind of sick pleasure out of the whole thing, knowing the lie would eventually come to an end, and quietly enjoying the way Nyx curled up against him and groused about it at night.

“What lie?” He wouldn’t likely get far, but he was willing to test it.

When Regis’ fingers flicked the lock on the handle, Cor sat up a little straighter. Unlike Nyx, he didn’t warp. He had the King’s magic and could make use of it and the Armiger, but warping had never come to him. The few times he’d been forced through it had been agonizing. When Pelna was forced to warp with him, he’d passed out. When Nyx had warped him, he’d had to bite down on his tongue to keep from vomiting. He’d sat there, dazed as Nyx had shot back off to fight, then had gotten pissed off about it later. That meant he couldn’t just dive out of the window and make it to the ground safely.

It meant he was stuck in a locked room with an annoyed Regis.

His fingers inched towards his phone.

“Leonis.” Cor looked up slowly. “No.”

_Oh._   
_Oh shit._

Regis dropped with all the grace of a feline onto his sofa, sprawling across the leather like the shadow of a lazy beast. His eyes, however, were sharp and watching Cor in such a way it was putting him on edge. The outer shell of this person was the friendly Regis Caelum he’d practically grown up with, but behind that stare was the _King_.

Cor swallowed and stayed where he was, giving the King his full, weary attention. “Something’s wrong.” When one of Regis’ eyebrows slowly rose, Cor let the corners of his mouth drop into a frown. “Other than the whole thing with Roe.”

“So you _did_ know…”

“Your Majesty, what is it?”

When they were alone, Cor never used a formal tone, never had in front of Cid or the others either. Regis had always been Regis or Asshole. He had always been Cor or Shithead.

Regis was putting off whatever needed to be said, but right now they weren’t Regis and Cor, they were King and Marshal. Ruler and Protector.

“There’s a leak.”

That simple statement rocked Cor. “What?”

“A leak,” Regis stated again. “Someone in the Citadel has been feeding the Empire information. We’re not sure who yet.”

Cor’s brain caught fire. It was a roar between his ears that left him feeling too hot, the air too thick. Anger, part of his still rational brain realized. He knew he was loyal to a fault, he’d followed whatever command the King gave without question. He’d done the same with Mors, even though he knew Mors had been less than good with some of his intentions. But Regis _was_ good. He did everything for his people. _Everything._ For there to be a leak… For there to be someone who would snub their nose at the King…

“ _Cor!_ ”

Cor blinked and stared at Regis. The King was staring at him, his green eyes trailing down his arm to his hand. That’s when Cor realized a familiar weight was there. Looking down, he found his katana in hand, summoned from the void that was the Armiger.

He dropped it and watched it fade into blue crystal.

“What would you have me do?” His voice was flat, dead. He had to be that way otherwise, the burning heat that followed the column of his spine would sap into his words, his actions. He’d learned a long time ago his emotions couldn’t and shouldn’t control his movements.

“Clarus and I have been coming up with a plan. But you’re probably not going to like it.”

Cor frowned. “News of a leak I like even less. What did you two decide?”

Regis sighed, but sat up on the sofa, leaning forward to he could rest his elbows against his knees. “Our sources keep leading us back to one particular council member. Which is unfortunate, but fortunate at the same time because they are throwing a masquerade for,” Regis paused for a moment and frowned. “For some reason. I’m sure it’s to impress the other social elite.”

He wasn’t following with this logic but nodded anyway. “And you want me to infiltrate and find out if they are the leak?”

Regis snorted. “Gods no. If I send you in there trying to be covert, you’ll blow the whole damn thing. They _know_ you, Cor. They know what you snooping about means.”

“Then what are you suggesting?”

Now the King smiled. That honey-sweet smile he used when he was about to say something Cor distinctly did not approve of. “Most of my council think I’m a flouncy idiot that doesn’t know his shoe from a rock.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Regis’ smile remained. “It’s a carefully cultivated image. No one would deny that I would get lost in such a large mansion when going to the bathroom, and then, of course, my Shield spending his evening making sure my stupidity doesn’t get me into trouble.” He smiled more when Cor narrowed his eyes. “I want you and Nyx to accompany me and Clarus. If you can cause a scene, a distraction of sorts, all eyes will be elsewhere and Clarus and I can roam the house freely.”

“Why don’t you or Clarus cause the distraction and let Nyx and me handle the investigation part?” He wasn’t sure the King would know what to look for, not that he did either.

Regis’ smile continued to grow. “Because think about it. Cor Leonis, the Marshal, the Immortal, the most emotionless prick-”

“I get it, Regis.”

“Causing a scene for you would be so out of character everyone would be staring at you. I know you don’t like being the center of attention but with you and Nyx there, it would have all eyes following you, not their bumbling, idiot King.”

Cor snorted and moved around in his desk chair uncomfortably. “What kind of distraction are we talking about? I don’t want to put Nyx in any danger…”

“Just be… I don’t know, soulmates? Be tender, be sweet on him. Hell, hold his hand in public. You’re prudish enough to have never done that.” When he saw Cor open his mouth to argue he cut him off. “I’ve seen you act like a jealous housewife with the man, but that’s _me_. The only other people outside both of your and Nyx’s circle of friends that know about you two are the Kingsglaives that go to his bar. Hell _Drautos_ doesn’t even know! He came here a few weeks ago trying to needle it out of me covertly. He’s been told it’s some man named Pelna? I don’t think he believes it.”

Cor huffed then chuckled because thinking about Nyx’s little lie to try and hide their relationship from his commanding officer still ruffled him a bit. “That was Nyx’s idea. All of the Glaives and most of the Crownsguard are in on it. Think of it as a big middle finger pointed at Drautos for being a dick.”

The King coughed then chortled softly. “Well this may ruin his little plan, but think of it as payback for lying to me about your ‘son’.”

“You’re using this as punishment and making me carry it out?”

Another sly grin. “Who better to embarrass the complete shit out of you other than the other half of your very soul? Besides, I kill two birds with one stone this way. I possibly catch my leak and get my revenge on your boyfriend.”

“I’m beginning to understand why they call it ‘Regicide’ now,” Cor murmured as he lit a new cigarette, peering across the room at his King. “I’m sure Mors made up the term and named it after you.”

Regis snorted. “Obviously just a coincidence.” He carefully extracted himself from the couch, crossing his arms over his chest when he straightened. “When are you going to marry that man?”

Cor nearly sucked the cigarette down his throat and sputtered smoke. “You may _leave_ now, Your Majesty,” he croaked, scrunching his nose up slightly.

The King just gave a little shrug and started towards the door. “The Masquerade is tomorrow night, I’ll text you the address. Debrief Ulric on the situation, but,” he paused for a second and peered back at Cor. “You might want to leave out that the two of you are a distraction.” That sly grin was back. “After all, you want his reaction to be genuine, right?” He dodged a book that was thrown at the door with a laugh and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is where I wrote myself into a corner and couldn't figure out what I was going to do. Essentially, this event is going to be taking place during the middle of Chapter 25 for RiM. So instead of writing it twice, I thought about giving it it's own chapter, I just have to make note of it in RiM.
> 
> I could do it from Nyx's pov, but honestly what I have planned will be _way_ more fun from Cor's perspective.
> 
> But to keep there from being too much confusion between the two, I'll post both those chapters at the same time. So when 16 goes up here, 25 will follow shortly after. They should hopefully be up sometime next week. ♡


	16. Chapter 16

# Side Quest Unlocked: [Cor]

# Chapter 16

“You were invited,” Nyx stated, frowning. “So why do I have to go?”

Cor loved him, he truly did. He had to keep reminding himself of that fact so he wouldn’t _strangle_ him. “I’m Clarus’ ‘plus one’,” he sighed. “Regis requested you be his.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, silently cursing both the King and his Shield for their ridiculous plan. He hadn’t told Nyx anything about the roles they would be playing, simply that they had been invited, but Nyx’s paranoid nature wasn’t helping. The younger man liked parties as much as Cor did.

Which was that he didn’t.

“He has a _wife_ he should be taking,” Nyx grouched, then frowned. “So does Lord Amicitia.”

Cor caved, if only slightly. “It’s a cover, Nyx. We’ll be there as their guests, but we’ll be acting as guards. Clarus will - of course - guard Regis, but we’ll be there as back up,” he explained, hoping it was enough.

The anxious pacing started then, and Cor watched in silence as Nyx started walking a rut in the middle of his office floor. “I just,” he murmured, fretting, then continued pacing. Cor wasn’t sure if all the anxiety his Soulmate was dealing with stemmed from just not wanting to take part in this outing, or because of the carefully cultivated lie Nyx had been telling most of Insomnia for the past month.

Probably both.

“It’s a masquerade if that helps?” Cor shrugged his shoulders when Nyx stopped his pacing to stare at him. “You’ll have on a mask. No one will be able to tell who you are.” Not that anyone from the council would know Ulric by sight. Most of them were too far up their own asses to pay attention. He watched as Nyx’s hand drifted upwards until it reached on of his braids, tugging at it gently. That, he realized, might be noticed. The braids and the beads were distinctly Galahdian. They screamed ‘outsider’. But with a mask in place, would anyone pay attention?

Cor himself would likely be recognized immediately. He was never far from the King, and even if that didn’t give him away, his mannerisms and voice likely would. That worked in his favor, however; since he and Nyx were to ultimately be the distraction. “Everyone will be dressed up, I doubt anyone will notice a stray braid or bead,” he offered. “Could even add something to your mask to help hide it.”

Nyx finally stopped pacing, standing before Cor’s desk with a frown decorating his face. “Or,” he murmured, “I could just leave them out of my hair?” It was a question, almost as if he were asking permission. When Cor just stared at him and didn’t respond, he sighed and sat in one of the stiff leather chairs in front of the desk. “Fine,” he grouched, glaring. “But this is the _only_ time I’m _ever_ going to something like this!”

Cor chuckled, ignoring the sharp look it earned him. “Guess I’ll have to make the most of our dance then.”

“Hell will freeze and Ifrit himself will rise from the earth before I dance with you, Leonis.”

Cor’s smile was a sly one. “We'll see about that, Ulric.”

* * *

Some would say he was enjoying this too much. Others would call him evil because he was. He wouldn’t argue with either statement.

Nyx had sought out help in the form of Crowe, who had been more than willing to give him the help he asked for. She’d even managed to somehow get Monica in on it. Something about the other woman still owing her a favor or two. Cor watched the two women from the safety of the couch while they leaned against the bar beside Nyx.

“Did you find a mask?” Crowe asked as she fiddled with one of Nyx’s braids. She’d been quietly unbraiding his hair since they’d arrived, dropping bits of cord and beads Nyx used to decorate them on the bartop.

He’d asked about them once, the beads and the cords. Nyx had explained their meaning loosely to him, not sure how much of the tradition Cor would understand. The cords were different colors and represented what part of Galahd their wearer came from. Each island had its own color. The beads were given as gifts or earned through deeds. The first he’d ever earned was displayed proudly. Aqua blue when the sun hit it just right, he’d earned it for rescuing one of his village’s children from drowning after a fishing accident. Another - a white one that reminded Cor a lot of a pearl - had been a gift from his mother. That one, Cor had noticed, never left Nyx’s hair; always carefully plated into a strand just behind his left ear.

“Not yet,” the younger man admitted, huffing. “I’m not sure what to get, honestly. I was going to wear the formal uniform they gave everyone and… I don’t know.” He gave a little half-hearted shrug.

“What about the mask from your Kingsglaive hood?” Monica asked. “We could embellish it a little bit. No one will ever know it’s you.”

Nyx perked at that, abandoning Crowe’s painstaking unbraiding to hurry off upstairs to his room. He returned a few minutes later with the hood from his uniform, examining the bit of metalwork that was attached. Cor had never actually seen the battle gear, only ever seeing the black uniform that was under the leather guards. The Crownsguard had a similar uniform that was seen as their ‘formal wear’, something usually saved for functions such as the masquerade they were attending. Otherwise, they wore more casual fatigues or combat gear, which was used more by the standard members rather than the officers like himself and Monica.

Moving to get a closer look, Cor took in the more intricate detailing of the metal curiously. The lower half wasn’t as ornate as the rest, which was made up of a triangular strip of patterned cloth. The nose guard led upwards into what looked like the ornate beginnings of a crown, the metal twisting and curling elegantly. On the left side, it ended in a kind of spike but on the right, that spike melded into a horn. A horn from a creature Cor had had a few run-ins with over the years. Though not nearly as large or as angry as their Galahdian cousins.

“A coeurl?” Cor murmured curiously, earning a pleased glance from Nyx.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “They told us to decorate our uniforms however we saw fit. Lib, Pelna and I went shortly after Lib and I signed up. I thought it came out pretty good.

It had, Cor decided as he watched Monica carefully unstitch it from the hood. It would likely cause some mask envy at the event, but Cor wasn’t going to share that information.

“What about you, Marshal?” Monica asked after she’d finished removing the mask.

Cor - being about as interested in the masquerade as he would be a dead voretooth - had picked out a stock mask. Opting instead of flashy, to be boring and simply go with a standard black mask. Upon this admission, Monica stared at him while Nyx whined in the background.

“I’ll find you one,” she stated simply, and suddenly Cor found himself trying to remember the last time he’d wronged the woman and just how mad she had been.

His life might depend on it.

* * *

Monica was the closest thing to a miracle worker Cor was sure to ever meet. She had taken both masks and transformed them into something altogether magical. From the simplest thing such as a strip to keep it in place, to simplistic embellishments using the same cords and beads Nyx had braided into his hair.

Nyx’s mask had not needed much. The girls had added a strand of beads and a small strip of purple ribbon, something that mimicked part of Nyx’s uniform. Other than that, the mask completed itself. It was Cor’s that had taken up most of their time, but they had transformed the plan, black mask into something utterly extraordinary.

There were snarl lines near the nose, giving it a slightly vicious look. Monica had managed to craft and attach a small horn-like projection to the left side that was vaguely reminiscent of a Behemoth’s horn. After revealing the masks to them a few hours later, Nyx had pulled Monica and Crowe to the side. A brief discussion later and some of the same cord used on Nyx’s had been added to his along with one of Nyx’s beads. A black one with an iridescent shimmer to it.

Cor wasn’t sure what the gesture truly meant, just that it was special in some way. He didn’t ask; Nyx was acting adorably shy about it so he simply said thank you while admiring it.

While Monica and Crowe finished putting the final touches on the masks, Cor and Nyx changed. Cor honestly would never get tired of seeing Nyx in the formal Kingsglaive uniform. It suited the younger man. He was quietly admiring him from the doorway to his bedroom when Nyx turned around and paused.

“Whoa.”

Cor blinked at the odd reaction, his brow furrowed. “What?”

“I’ve never seen you in,” Nyx paused to gesture towards his body. “ _That_.” He murmured, giving him an appraising look. “I think I have a thing for you in a uniform.”

It took a moment for that to register, but when it did, Cor’s eyebrow rose. “That so?” He stepped forward, fixing Nyx’s collar.

Nyx breathed in slow, staring determinedly at Cor’s face. “Yup. It’s a thing. Don’t look _down_ , asshole.”

Cor chuckled. He might be an asshole, but Nyx thought he was a good looking asshole, and that was good enough for him.

“You two had better not be fuckin’ up there,” Crowe called from the stairway. “I’ll tell Monica.”

“So lady-like,” Nyx murmured, stepping back from Cor. “Truly a diamond amongst shards of glass.”

Cor smiled and made his way back downstairs, earning a wolf whistle from Crowe as he approached the bar. He dutifully took the offered mask, holding it up to his face curiously while Nyx did the same beside him.

“Ah,” Crowe sighed, seemingly pleased with her and Monica’s handiwork. “You two will be the most beautiful couple there.”

“I feel like that means we look threatening,” Nyx murmured to himself and laughed when Crowe pointed a finger at him threateningly. “Back, Harpy! You can’t fool me with your human skin!” It earned Nyx a playful hiss from the woman and Cor watched as fire played across her palm. Nyx, the utter shithead, used him as a meat shield. “Careful,” he warned. “You burn me and Cor might get mad. He doesn’t want singed merchandise.”

“Cor,” Crowe stated with a smirk that seemed to say she knew the Marshal better than he wanted her to. “Has a thing for scars. One more won’t hurt you, Ulric.”

When Nyx turned to him pleadingly, Cor just shrugged. “She has a point.”

The look Nyx gave him was well worth the many questions it would raise later.

* * *

Cor was used to these sordid affairs. He found them boring. Watching Nyx however, was the best thing he’d ever witnessed. The mask obscured his face, but he could still make out those wide blue eyes as they tried to stare in every direction at once. He stuck close, nearly shoulder to shoulder with him as they followed Clarus and Regis around from large room to large room.

“I didn’t know they made houses this big,” he whispered to Cor, earning a soft snort. “Seriously!” Nyx continued. “Half of the Galahdian Quarter could fit in here.”

Cor paused, glancing down at Nyx thoughtfully. To him, this place was lavish and rich, something Cor had silently become accustomed to over the years of attending these kinds of events. It gave him pause now because he wondered just how fucked up that was. While they weren’t living in squalor, the Galahdian’s living conditions weren’t the best. If anything, this display of riches should piss the other man off. Insomnian officials refused to help the Galahdians in any way, shape or form. They wouldn’t even help them fix up the slowly crumbling corner of the Crown City they now called home.

But they could throw lavish parties and afford houses with more rooms than they could fill with their expensive trinkets.

Nyx should have been angry, _livid_ even. But he wasn’t, and maybe that spoke volumes on his character. Cor wondered if it spoke volumes of his that he was angry for them. If nothing else, if Lord L'estro was indeed flirting with the Empire, Cor would talk to Regis about having the man’s assets liquidated and used to improve the Galahdian Quarter. After all, it was their lives on the front lines, and Lord L'estro was one of the more outspoken council members in his refusal to help the refugees. With that in mind, Cor was making sure to keep Nyx clear of man in case L'estro said something abhorrent.

Lord L'estro was a slender man, and too damn tall. Even Cor had to tilt his head slightly to catch the man’s eye, something he was only used to doing to Drautos and Clarus. It was beyond annoying. The man already looked down his nose at everyone he came in contact with, being taller than them just made the effect more unbearable. With hair that looked like pale, spun gold and eyes the color of the ocean, it was no wonder that half the single women in Insomnia were present at this gathering as well, hoping by chance they’d be matched with the handsome young man no doubt. At least him being so tall meant he was an easy target. Cor could keep an eye on him while others that desperately wished to keep his attention could as well. It made slipping away easier.

It would be even _easier_ if he wasn’t having to trail along behind the King of Lucis.

It wasn’t a difficult task to tell which masked figure was the King. All black and gold, Regis stood out in a crowd. Not so much because of the color combination, but because of his mask. A gold stylized reaper skull adorned his face, the same one that was proudly displayed on the Royal Crest.

Clarus had at least _tried_ to keep his identity hidden, but it wasn’t hard to guess who would be with the King. Which meant he’d likely been pegged as well. Wherever Regis walked, Clarus and Cor would always be a few steps behind.

This plan of Regis’ was becoming more and more ridiculous by the moment. They’d spent the first thirty minutes dodging Lord L'estro while Nyx and he tried to determine where L'estro’s study would be. There were a few options, most of them upstairs and away from the festivities which would make it more difficult for Cor and Nyx to cover the King’s tracks.

While following the King around was a pain in the ass, Cor had to admire the fact Regis pulled off the ‘witless, stupid King’ persona flawlessly. Which meant it was perfectly easy for the man to stumble upstairs, ‘realize’ his mistake and then come back down after rifling about.

Maybe the benevolent and just King he knew outside the council meetings was all an act. When he said as much to Nyx, it earned him a laugh.

“He does seem to play this role almost _too_ well,” Nyx whispered back, yelping slightly when Regis rounded on the two of them with a mighty frown. The King gave Cor a pointed look, his indication he and Clarus were about to start nosing around again. Nyx gave him a confused glance, his back Rigid under the Kingly gaze.

Without a word, the King and his Shield turned and disappeared down a corridor. When Nyx started to follow, Cor gave his arm a gentle tug and shook his head when it earned him a confused look. “We’re running interference,” he told him with a nod towards L'estro, who was quite obviously searching the crowd for someone, likely Regis. As soon as the man spotted them and their uniforms, he started towards them, his strides purposeful.

“What should we tell him?” Nyx murmured, watching L'estro’s approach apprehensively.

Cor snorted. “We aren’t telling him anything,” and like the mastermind he was, Cor hooked his arm with Nyx’s and started walking.

“Where are we going?” the younger man yelped softly, quickly matching his pace with Cor’s longer stride.

“I told you back at the bar,” Cor stated with an almost childish smirk. “I’m getting that dance.” Nyx made a lot of hissing sounds after that, trying to tug away from Cor, but he held onto the younger man’s arm. He was an asshole, he knew that. Nyx knew it too since he kept hissing at him.

“Cor, I _can’t_ dance!” the younger man whispered, desperate to get Cor to change their course. “I’m going to look like an idiot!”

“An adorable idiot.” Nyx faltered at his words, giving him a chance to tug him out into the middle of the floor. “Don’t be dramatic, the dancing is the easy part,” he murmured before guiding Nyx through the first few steps. They were lucky L'estro wasn’t like some of the younger members of the council and still liked the ‘classics’ as he put them. There were only two younger men on the council, having gained the spots from their fathers before them. They had good heads on their shoulders, but this would have been something akin to that rave Cor had stumbled across in the woods that one time if they had hosted the event.

That had been an interesting night.

“Besides,” Cor continued as Nyx frantically tried to keep up with his steps. “The more we dance around, the less likely L'estro is going to catch us.”

Nyx made a disparaging sound in the back of his throat. “What is his Majesty even doing, Cor? He’s slinking around like some kind of burglar.”

He thought about telling him, but kept his mouth shut; just giving a small shrug. He’d explain it all later after Nyx stopped being mad about being left out of the loop - because he would be. Their purpose was to serve as a distraction, to keep L'estro from following the King which meant they needed to keep L'estro trailing them for as much of the event as they could.

He had a backup plan, in case, for whatever reason; they needed a split of the moment distraction to keep L'estro from wandering up to his study, but Cor didn’t want to use it. Not here, not when Nyx would probably punch him for it. But Regis had asked for a distraction, and if he had to use it, he would.

_”Cor,”_ a voice - Clarus - buzzed to life in his ear, passing through the earpiece of his headset that had been carefully hidden by his mask. _”We have what we need, make the arrest.”_

The dance came to a stop and Cor eased himself and Nyx away, his eyes roving over the crowd until he found L'estro’s head bobbing nearby, still searching. With careful steps, Cor moved himself and Nyx so they were in the man’s path. When they were spotted and Nyx made a small distressed noise in the back of his throat, Cor just gave his soulmate the little half-smile Nyx had once told him made him look like an utter dick.

“Showtime.”

“Show - what?”

The music stopped just as L'estro reached them and Cor carefully maneuvered Nyx so that he was slightly in front of his soulmate.

“Gentlemen,” L'estro murmured with a slight dip of his head. “I was hoping you could tell me where his Majesty might be? I’ve only spied him once or twice tonight.”

Cor kept his face carefully impassive, even with the mask hiding his features he wanted to be careful not to give anything away. “Yes sir, he would like to speak with you as well.” He reached out carefully, wrapping his fingers around L'estro’s forearm in a vice-like grip to keep the young council member from fleeing.

L'estro’s eyes narrowed, staring at him apprehensively. “Does he now?”

“I do,” Regis's voice piped up behind him, oddly cheerful. There was a sound like papers being waved behind his head and Cor watched as a look of utter disdain crossed L'estro’s face. “About you conspiring with the Empire against me.”

The next few seconds happened in quick succession. It was like Cor was staring at pictures as they developed, taken in slow motion. He stared as L'estro reached up and grabbed his elbow with the same arm Cor was holding onto, producing a knife in his other hand. Cor’s katana was locked away in the void of the armiger and even as he moved his hand out to summon the blade, he knew the knife would hit.

Then his world turned upside down and for a nauseating few seconds, he couldn’t tell which way was up or down. His back hit the floor - he thought it was the floor at least - with a thud and he blinked, staring up into wide, panicked blue eyes as blue crystal dust glittered in the air.

His brain buzzed as he realized what happened. Turning quickly, he searched for Regis and L'estro only to find the man pinned under Clarus who was rather angrily wrenching the man’s arm out of place where he had him pinned to the floor, knee pressed squarely in his back. There was a snarl on the Shield’s face Cor hadn’t witnessed since he was fifteen and in the middle of Altissia.

Regis was completely unperturbed, staring down at L'estro with a look of genuine pity, his reaper mask gone. He opened his mouth to speak, and Cor found himself wondering exactly what his King had found, except a different voice filled his ears. One that was a lot closer, and a lot angrier.

“You fucking _idiot_!” Nyx seethed, and Cor made a show of _not_ flinching when the man’s fist struck his shoulder a little harder than he thought he deserved. But Nyx was pissed, and he wasn’t about to tell him that. “Are you _trying_ to die?! What were you planning on doing? Letting him stab you so you could have the upper hand?” He glared, frowned, then looked up to shoot a glare towards where L’estro was being pinned to the floor while Regis read off whatever was written on the papers in his hands. “I should go and strangle him. Will Clarus stop me? What if I hit him too?”

Cor watched in silent fascination as Nyx lost his temper in the middle of a fancy-ass house while straddling him. When those blue eyes landed back on him they softened if only for a fraction of a second before he narrowed them into a glare. Cor smartly kept his mouth closed, but carefully let his fingers trail up through Nyx’s hair when the man dropped his head to his chest.

“You’re going to be the death of me, literally,” Nyx breathed, his forehead pressed against Cor’s chest. “I won’t even make it to thirty. I’ll die in the middle of the street somewhere because you’re stupid ass got _stabbed_. I can hear them now. ‘Poor Ulric. His soulmate went out and did something _stupid_ and now they’re both dead’.”

Cor listened to him ramble on, a habit he’d discovered Nyx tended to do when he was upset. So he just stared at the ceiling of the lavish mansion, letting his soulmate press into his chest and curse him repeatedly while murmuring voices tried to gain his attention. He ignored them, listening to Nyx instead. Because all the little things Pelna had told him about before, all the curses, the snide comments, the anger bubbling under the fear…. It meant something.

“Nyx.” When blue eyes hovered over him once more, Cor breathed out slow. “Marry me.”

Those blue eyes got wider than they had before. “What? Wait, no. We are _not_ doing this here.”

“Marry me?”

“I’m going to fucking _strangle_ you. You are _not_ asking this _now_. Not after nearly getting stabbed.” Nyx paused, stared at Cor’s face then scrunched up his nose. “You fucking are. You piece of shit. I fucking hate you. Yes. I can’t believe we are doing this right now. I’m going to beat the living shit out of you when we get home, and then I’m going to let Lib hit you.”

“Yes?”

“ _Fuck you_.” Cor laughed, even when Nyx’s fist struck his shoulder none-too-gently a second time. “How can someone as clever as you be so _stupid_?”

A throat cleared beside them, making Nyx jump slightly. “This is cute, truly,” Clarus murmured as Cor turned his attention to the Shield. “But I believe we should be leaving now. L’estro is in custody.”

Beside him, Regis had stars in his eyes. “ _Clarus_. He _asked_!”

“I heard him, your Majesty.”

“Our little boy is all grown up.”

Clarus, for his part, snorted. “Of that, I’m not so sure.”

“I’m going to be a _father-in-law_!”

“Regis, you do have a son, remember? He’s betrothed already?”

The look of unforgiving horror on Nyx’s face was worth nearly being stabbed. Thorough Cor had a feeling he might still be at risk of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today (24th of September) is my birthday! :D (So here’s Cor being completely OOC.)  
> So in the next day or so I’m gonna try and write a little one-shot I’ve been playing around with and post it (as thanks to everyone because you guys are lovely and I love all of you).
> 
> Side note: I’m sorry I didn’t post this sooner. I had it written in my notebook but I’ve been too tired to sit down and actually type it. But NOW my desktop is being a royal pain in the ass, so I’m going to start building a new one (this one is 7 years old) because right now, it won’t even power up properly. -sob- Until then, I have this really basic, crap laptop. So until I can get my old boi runnin’ or I can get my new one built, updates might be slow. (This laptop’s keyboard freaks out and makes it disgustingly difficult to type. It misses keystrokes and everything.)


End file.
